


Everlark Tales and Other Stories

by Alliswell



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Drabble Collection, Drabbles, F/M, Multi-verse, Multiple Settings, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:19:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 33,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6669283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliswell/pseuds/Alliswell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of Drabbles/One Shots, from Tumblr Prompts in no particular order. Some are AUs, others are canon compliant and some others are in between.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prompt #7

 

_Thank you for the prompt, @b-boop5!  (Remember, mistakes are my specialty)_

 

* * *

 

   
“In my defense, I thought this would go a lot more smoothly.” Peeta said in a self deprecating tone, smiling wanly.

  
His sky blue eyes opened, when Katniss chuckled half amused, half in pain at him.

  
“Really? And what exactly, gave you that idea?” She asked him, smirking, while combing back his dampened blond curls, away from his face.

  
He looked up at her sheepishly, from where he lay on a hospital bed, all of his own. He answered her question, twisting the corner of lip into a faint smile. “Well, at least I thought it’ll go smoothly for me, I’m not the one pushing a little human being out of my…”

  
“Ooo-kay! I think you’re fine now. Back to your old self.” She sputtered hurriedly.

  
He laughed. After almost twenty years of marriage, she was still squeamish about nudity and body parts, although she had no qualms, calling those same body parts dirty names under the cover of darkness, beneath his writhing frame, and between their sheets. Why, that’s exactly how they ended in their current position!

  
He loved her just as she was, quirks, scars, and slightly puritanical bouts.

  
He looked at her again, eyes crinkling at the corners, where the mark of time had started to settle, showing a life well lived, regardless of the horrors seen by those same blue eyes, throughout the years. Peeta regarded his wife, for a moment: hair sweaty and falling out of her messy braid, tendril of hair, sticking to the sides of her face and neck, her cheeks were red, her gray eyes looked tired, there was a sheen of sweat covering her skin all over, and he could tell, she was trying not to cry out in pain, for his sake.

  
“You are my hero, Katniss. You know that?” He asked reaching his hand to caress her face.

  
She smiled shyly at him, “Why? I haven’t done anything special,”

  
Peeta rolled his eyes, and tried to sit up, “Are you kidding me? Nothing special? You’re bringing my child into this world, almost singlehandedly, seeing as I can’t even keep from falling apart at the sight of childbirth. And on top of that, you are still taking care of me, even though is my time to be the one holding your hand,” he cupped her cheek, and made the effort to lean over both his bed and hers, separated by a mere five inches, to kiss her lips softly.

  
“We’re a team, Peeta. We protect each other,”

  
“Always,”

  
“Alw...” she started to repeat softly, but a contraction suddenly hit her, making her bend over in pain.

  
A nurse rushed into the private room, the hospital had provided for her, on account of giving privacy to the Mellarks, who were synonym with celebrity residents of District Twelve. It had taken ten years for the new Republic of Panem to build the facilities for the hospital, but it was a monument to the changes in the country, to even have it erect in a place where even going to the local apothecary was a luxury.

  
The nurse tending to Katniss called for assistance, since Peeta wouldn’t stop hovering and trying to poke information about his wife’s condition while the poor nurse tried her best to get things ready for delivery.

  
A doctor lady came in soon after, followed by a winded Mrs. Everdeen, who’s presence greatly surprised the parents-to-be.

  
“I was given a hovercraft to fly here, I will explain later.” She said in a clipped tone, “Now, Katniss, I’m going to assist Doctor Waters in the delivery, and we will talk after my grandchild has arrived, and you both had taken a rest.” The woman seemed excited to be there regardless of her Healer tone, and both Katniss and Peeta were grateful that they had her there, to witness the momentous occasion.

 

  
Wheatney Rosemary Mellark, came into the world at 7:45 pm, on April the 21, twenty years after her parents found each other, and themselves again. After the flames that had ravaged her folks world had died down. Her arrival marked the very first time her mother felt relieved of her fear of the future, and her father was there holding them both in his protective arms.

  
The world was a much brighter place, with her in it.

  
“I told you, things would smooth out, didn’t I?” Peeta whispered into his wife’s ear lovingly, as she nursed their newborn baby girl. He was right!

* * *

 


	2. Prompt#6

 

_Thanks for the prompt (Anon)!!!_

 

* * *

  
“Explain it to me again,” he said in a bemused tone, arching his dark blonde eyebrow at her, “why do we need to pretend to be married?”

  
Katniss bit her lip guiltily, her gray eyes flicking between her pretend husband, and the road ahead of her.

  
“Mmm, because my high school ex and his million dollar heiress wife will be at our Ten Year Reunion, and, Jo got pissed about the way he was implying he dodged a bullet with, loser me, in a mocking tone, and… Well, she kind of told him, I married über hot, Peeta Mellark, Senior class President and back-to-back Panem High Wrestling Champion, not to forget, successful business owner, who runs the Mellark Bakery chain, and who I’ve shared an apartment for the last two years?” Her nervous eyes flicked back to him, and again to the road, making sure she wouldn’t hit any pedestrians with her car, while driving around downtown, at lunch time. “Also, because your my best friend, and you love me?” Her eyes were pleading as she half joked with her last sentence.

  
“It’s that right?” He asked with a self satisfied smirk.

  
“Well, that, and apparently, we are about to leave the country for a month long second honeymoon, touring Europe, in celebration of our wedding anniversary…” Katniss winced as the words rushed out of her mouth.

  
She felt utterly embarrassed, telling Peeta the half baked plan her college best friend, had come up with, when off all people in the Party Committee, Gale ‘ _fucking_ ’ Hawthorne, had shown up to hand deliver the invitation to their High School reunion, to the little house Katniss used to share with Jo, before the latter had gone and gotten married on a whim, to her boss, almost twenty years her senior, Haymitch Abernathy.

  
At the time, the impassioned speech, eight-month-pregnant Johanna, had given her, infected Katniss with the hormone induced rage, her friend had felt, so when she heard Johanna’s revenge story, she nodded firmly, agreeing it had been the best idea ever. Now, looking at it in hindsight, and with a cooler head, Katniss could see the gaping holes in the deception, and above all, how silly it was, that she even cared what Gale thought of her at that point in her life. She wasn’t a loser, and if anything, she, had been the one to dodge the bullet.

  
The thing that cost her the most distress, was having to tell Peeta about it. She didn’t want to put him in that uncomfortable, laughable position. Peeta was so handsome, so sweet, and caring, she didn’t want to hold him back, because of a lie. He truly was her very best friend! He took her in, when she found herself without a home overnight, and eventually asked her to stay permanently. The truth was, she had slowly fallen in love with the man, but she thought, he was too good for her. After all, Gale’s words had kernel of truth to them.

  
Katniss was a college dropout, who worked up to three jobs at one point, just to support her sister, when both their parents died suddenly. She never complained about her lot in life, and she was proud of herself for the most part, but there was a complex of self loathing in her, she couldn’t shake. Only Peeta ever made her feel like she hasn’t wasted her youth, on responsibilities that were forced on her. She loved Prim, but Prim would be a successful Doctor one day, while Katniss would still be a menial task assistant, on the County’s Parks and Recreation office.

  
Still, Peeta, being Peeta, had heard the whole story over a bowl of Sae’s greasiest broccoli and cheese soup, and never questioned it, until the drive back to his main bakery. Even then he wasn’t refusing her, but merely having fun with the notion.

  
“Look,” Katniss took a deep breath, “you don’t have to go along with it. I’ll just put my big girl panties, and come clean in front of everyone, about us. I don’t wanna ruin your chances of hooking up with any lost crush, you might encounter at our reunion,” she let out a shaky breath, as she started to pull into the Mellark’s Bakery parking lot.

  
Peeta laughed, but the sound was mirthless and hollow. “Ah, Katniss… You don’t have to worry about that,” he said with a smile.  
As she was parking, to let him out of the car, he cover her slim, small hand still clutching the wheel, with his big, warm, calloused one. The gesture made her turn her head to stared at him in confusion.

  
Peeta trained his deep blue eyes on hers, his gaze was serious and vehement as he spoke, “There was only girl I was crushing on during high school. That crush perdured all the way into college, but I never had the courage to tell her anything about it.”

  
“Why not?” Katniss squeaked, trying to hold herself together, bracing for the blow that would break her heart into a million pieces.

  
“I had a crush on that girl for eleven years, and the whole time I tried to figure out a way to talk to her, without success, until college. But, when I thought we were in a comfortable footing, when I thought I would be brave enough to ask her out, she dropped out of school, because she became sole bread winner of her small family,”

  
Katniss eyes widened, and her breath hitched in her throat. She felt the threat of tears, burning behind her eyes, when Peeta pry her hands, as gently as he could, from where they had frozen on the steering wheel.

  
“You know, I’m gonna have words with Johanna after this. I’m not sure if I’m gonna hug her and kiss her, or glare at her the whole time… But, Katniss, you don’t have to lie at the reunion at all, you see, you did say something that’s absolutely true in all your rambling,” his eyes were gentle, soft, and he was smiling sweetly as he talked, running soothing circles on the top of her hands.

  
“What’s that?” Katniss rasped out, barely above a whisper, battling back tears.

  
“I do love you, more than anything in the world.” He was looking straight into her eyes, cutting down into her very soul.

  
She felt all the air leave her lungs, and started to panic, but his voice calmed her down, as he kept his manly baritone soft, “I would be honor to call you my wife, take you on lengthy trips across the world, and name you queen of my bready empire,” she giggled at that between wayward tears, “I just want it to be real,” he said honestly.

  
“No pretending for the benefit of others, but honest to God, man and wife, legally married before the competent entities. I don’t care what anybody says, you’re the most worthy woman I’ve ever met, and your beauty puts any other female to shame, so, I guess what I’m proposing is… Well, marriage, a ring, a celebration, a honeymoon, and for you to allow me to kiss you in the lips any time I want to, and hold close to me in public.”

  
For the first time since the conversation started, he looked nervous, anxious even.

  
“Okay,” she whispered.

  
“Okay?” He repeated, frowning.

  
“Yes. Okay, I’ll be your wife for real!” She managed to spit out.

  
“Are you sure? Are you gonna be alright with that? I don’t want you changing your mind…”

  
“I love you too, you idiot! Shut up trying to dissuade me, and kiss me already!” She demanded, pulling him by the collar of his polo shirt, not waiting for his compliance, and smacking a long, sloppy kiss onto his lips.

  
It didn’t take long for him to get over his surprise, and catch up with her. He smiled against her lips, and without separating from them, he said, “well Mrs. Mellark, about that month long honeymoon in Europe… Could we negotiate a week long ‘wedding night’ in there? Because, I don’t think one night will be enough to enjoy my new wife,”

  
Katniss giggled, and slapped at his chest playfully, “We will see, it depends on the wedding cake flavor,”

  
“Oh, that’s going to be totally chocolate, and for dessert, cheese buns!”

  
“Oooh… I think you’ve gotten yourself a deal!”


	3. Prompt #25

 

_Thank you for the prompt @starveinsafety. Mistakes are bound to pop up._

 

* * *

  
“Where have you been? I was ready to call the police!” Peeta’s shaking me by the shoulders, the anguished expression marring his handsome face, makes me feel guilty for running off in the first place.

  
After all, doesn’t know what’s going on with me. Is actually a wonder I didn’t come back to find police cars littering the neighborhood. I’m not proud of how I’ve been handling this whole ordeal, and I know I need to explain myself, why did I slapped his hands away from me and rushed out the door, when he came home from the bakery, and tried to hug and kiss me hello.

  
The bad thing is, I’m terrible with words, and I swear my brain enjoys to humiliate me every chance it gets, because the first thing that comes out of my mouth, should never be said while sobbing and looking like its the worse news ever given.

  
“I’m pregnant!”

  
He’s face contorts into something I can’t describe, there’s concern, and also confusion, I might even venture to say there’s disbelief in his frowning brow.

  
“Beg your pardon?” He says in a high pitch voice I don’t quite recognize, “did I just hear you say: you’re pregnant?” He asks while digging his fingers into my biceps until I wince in pain.

  
He lets go of me quickly, noticing he’s been hurting me, but his hands latch onto my wrists just as fast; he might be a bit confused, but he’s not stupid, he won’t allow me to run away again, and knowing myself, I would just do that if he lets go of me again.

  
“Katniss?” His voice trembles slightly, “are you pregnant with my baby?” He asks slowly, trying to fit together the puzzle, now that he’s got most of the pieces.

  
I nod, because I’m crying so much, and all I can let out of my mouth is a string of hiccups.

  
Peeta and I are not married, in fact we’re not even dating. We’ve been best friends forever, and became roommates a year or so ago. I’ve never had a boyfriend, because of my fear of falling in love and losing myself so much, that I end up a shell of my former self, if anything were to happen to my potential significant other. It’s what happened to my parents. Mother loved Father so much, than when he died on a work related accident, her mind followed him to land of the dead, never to return, abandoning my baby sister and myself to our own luck.

  
It’s taken me a lot of work and therapy, to be where I am today. Befriending Peeta I’ve always counted as a blessing, he’s my rock, and the person that knows me best besides my sister Prim. But unlike me, Peeta has always dreamed with having a family of his own, one he can love and pamper, with lots of children to teach how to be kind, and generous and brave, since his family was the complete opposite, giving him a sad childhood.

  
Peeta told me he loves me ages ago. I just couldn’t be that for him. Circumstances landed me in the position of needing a roommate, and he offered, with the understanding that we would keep a platonic relationship. Easier said than done!

  
He wore me down, not even trying! He was surprised out of his wits the first time I leaned in and kissed him square in the mouth. I just couldn’t resist his goodness, selflessness, and boyish good looks.

  
It all started not four months ago. First we’d shyly kissed, then hands were added, and lips slipped down throats, hands started to roam freely over skin, and one day, exactly five weeks ago, it went far enough to have me missed my clock-work PMS, which prompted me to take the test that I left on the bathroom counter before hightailing out of there, terrified by the small, blue plus sign.

  
“I’m sorry,” he says sadly, and gathers me in his warm, soothing arms, brushing his lips to my temple.

  
It breaks my heart that he’s apologizing, and that’s when I realize, I’m being an idiot!  
He will make the best father ever, he’s already in love with me, he’s told me several times, he will do anything for me. It won’t be easy to let go of my fears, but I do love Peeta, more than my own life, I’ve just been too scare to let him know that, but I ought to, since he deserves the same amount of happiness he gives me with his ever gesture.

  
“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong, Peeta. You’ve always been amazing, and I’m terrified of all that’s happening to me… To us.” I separate from him, staring into his deep blue eyes that calm even my worst internal storms, “If I have this baby… Will you stay with me?”

  
Peeta holds my face in his hands with so much love and tenderness, I feel the three word sentence at the top of my tongue, ready to fall out.

  
“Always!” He says, tears prickling his eyes.

  
“I love you,” I didn’t mean to cut him off, and let the words fall in such a hasty, breathy manner, but his teary eyes widen and the biggest smile curls his lips.

  
“Is this a dream? Is this real?”

  
I tell him: "Real,”


	4. Prompt #16

 

_Thanks for the Prompt @mega-aulover, hope you like it!_

 

* * *

 

 

“Ow, what was that for?” He asked rubbing the back of his head, while glaring at me in annoyance.

  
I was annoyed with him too! He wouldn’t listen when I told him to wait, that there was something strange with the house, that I had a prickly feeling in the mouth of my stomach. No, instead of waiting to make sure, it was safe to go inside, he had waved me off, saying that I was being paranoid.

  
Well, I am paranoid! I’ve survived two Hunger Games, a war and being used and betrayed by not one, but two governments; I think I’ve earn the right of mistrusting everything and everyone. They even brainwashed him, for crying out loud!

  
So when he started to jiggle the doorknob open, I slammed into his solid body with all my might, and prayed it was enough to make him step back, since he returned home, he’s regained his original weight plus more muscles, he easily has a hundred and fifty pounds on me by now. I guess I underestimated my own strength mixed with adrenaline, since, not did I just made him step back, but he flat out fell to the porch floor, hitting his head on the hardwood flooring.

  
“Well, you would stop! I had to stop you before you ran into who-knows-what trap inside. I’m telling you, there’s something not right in there,” I whisper, crouching next to him, offering my arm to help him up.

  
He’s still glaring at me, as he rights himself into a sitting position. His face is a mix of annoyance, amusement and pride. Then he’s chuckling and shaking his head from side to side ruefully.

  
“What’s going on, Peeta?” I ask him, knowing full well, he knows what’s causing my hunter’s instinct to go haywire, and he’s not telling me.

  
He smiles fondly at me, and brings a hand to caress my face. “I knew we couldn’t fool you, but they insisted, so I gave in.”

  
“What?” My voice comes out hard and threatening.

  
“Oh, you’ll see,” he leans forward, capturing my lips with his, “thank you, by the way,” he says pulling away from my confused face, “you just made me twenty coins richer!” He laughs, and pulls himself up, yanking me up with him.

  
“Go on, open the door. It’s nothing bad, I promise.” He tells me softly, kissing my forehead, while I try to keep a scowl in place.

  
I’m starting to get aggravated with him.

  
I obey nonetheless, and open the door slowly, still wishing my bow and arrows were strapped to my back, and not hanging from their hook in the kitchen, on the place of prominence we’ve given it, when in was declared lawful for regular district people, to bear certain arms and weapons. We decided to put on display my father’s bows, in plain sight, since we could.

  
As soon as I walk under the threshold, I heard the muffled noises of furniture shuffling around, before people popped out of hiding spots, yelling “SURPRISE!” at the top of their lungs.

  
I looked confused at all of them, I know for a fact, I’m wearing a frown.

  
“Ah, damn it. The jig is up people. Sweetheart here knew we were in here. Oh shucks…” I can hear the sarcasm in my old mentor’s voice. He didn’t look sad at all, but the look on Effie Trinket’s pouty face, made my aggravation melt away, replacing it with a tinge of guilt, for ruining her surprise.

  
Looking around I can see other familiar faces, Greasy Sae, Delly, Thom, my old prep team looking strangely normal without their crazy alterations, and the best surprise of all, Annie, little Finn and Johanna.

  
I smile at them.

  
“I told you she was gonna ruin the surprise!” Cackled Johanna with relish, “Katniss might be brainless, but she’s got Victor’s instincts!” She threw her thing arms around me, and then the party begun, when Haymitch started hollering for a drink.

  
After everyone had said their goodnights, and left our house, with the promise of breakfast at the new bakery the next day, Peeta stood behind me.

  
Sliding an arm around my middle, an pressing my back to his chest, we waved bye-bye to our guests together. Then he lowered his lips to my ear, “Happy Twentieth birthday, Katniss. Hope you liked the surprise you almost ruined,”  
I turn around in his grasp, and circle his neck with my arms. “You know I hate surprises, but, thank you for the effort.” I give him a small peck on the lips.

  
“Hmm. You know the night is not over yet, and I still have to give you my present,” he says in that deep, low, dangerous voice of his, that turns my insides into a shivery mess.

  
“Oh? Shall we go get it?” I ask with my best seductive tone, one I’ve managed to mastered in the last few years, since we officially became a couple.

  
“Most definitely,”

  
And with a Yelp from me, he’s picked me up bride style in his strong arms, kicking the front door close behind us, and bounded upstairs to our bedroom. This is one birthday surprise I’ll never protest.


	5. Matching for Prom

_Little ficlet I wrote, inspired by this post, because it just screamed Everlark! (Mistakes are mine!)_

  
_~*~_

  
I dump all my text books on top my bedroom desk, readying to complete homework, before plopping down on the desk chair, that’s in desperate need of a replacement.

  
I just got home from work, at Sae’s Diner, where I’ve been picking up extra hours, to help mom with my own expenses. I’m pooped and moody, not that I’ve ever been a cheery person, but today has been borderline foul, since I had the displeasured to serve Haymitch Abernathy, a war veteran, turned Panem County’s resident drunk, who only seems to function of off white liquor, sarcasm and chili fries.

  
He’s the most antagonistic human being I’ve ever met, and I think he hates me, as much as I hate him. One thing I can’t fault the bastard for, and the only reason I put up with him, without spitting on his food, is his generous tips. I made more money today just waiting his sorry ass, than all the last three days combined.

  
I just wished his tips were reduced, only to the monetary kind, but the old coot has a mouth on him, and believes himself cleverer than everybody else.

  
My feet, along with my bruised ego, are killing me, after an hour with Haymitch!

  
I cross my leg over the opposite knee, grunting, when I yank off my combat boot of my foot. I throw the boot across the room, into the open closet where it lands with a clank. I’m about to repeat the process with my other boot, when my cellphone starts vibrating on top of the desk, where I’ve tossed it carelessly not a minute ago.

  
“I swear to all that’s sacred, if this is Jo, calling to swap shifts again… So help me… Imma scream at her ass!”

  
Lucky for Jo, it’s not her ‘Gene Simmons’ impersonation, the picture displayed on the caller ID screen.

  
My first smile all afternoon, comes effortlessly, as I see the goofy face of my best friend, smiling back at me. I already feel the stress of the day melt away from my shoulders.

  
I pick up the phone, and switch the silence button off, then quickly answer the call.

  
“Hello!” I sing-song breathlessly, with repressed laughter.

  
“Uh… Hiya there… I think I might have a wrong number or something,”

  
“What do you mean?” I whine at his confused sounding voice.

  
“Yeah, well you see, I’m calling Katniss Everdeen, petite, dark hair, always scowling, not a very people person, and I know for a fact, that today she had bad day at work, which most likely made her very grumpy,” he lowers his voice, as if he’s telling me a secret, “I’ve heard, she had a run in with her least favorite customer!” Then, in his normal, happy voice, he tells me, “But you ma'am, you sound too happy to be her. So, I’m sorry I bothered you… tootles!”

  
“PEETA!” I scream choking up on my laughter. “Don’t hang up, you doofus! I really did have a horrible day with Haymitch, and you’re possibly the only one, fit to salvage this terrible evening,”

  
He chuckles on the other side of the line. “Fine, I won’t hang up. Geez, now I know how Ben Kenobi felt… Since, I’m your only hope and all.”

  
“Help me Obi Wan!” I say in my best Leia imitation, making him chuckle again. “So, how did you know anyway?” I ask curiously, after a small pause.

  
“Word of mouth,” he says nonchalantly, “You know how it is. I was minding my own business, building a fondant masterpiece, when I overheard the melodious, chatty voice of Delly, lamenting to Rye, having to witness the debacle with her own eyes.” He paused for comic effect, “Although, I have to admit, I’d take her gossipy chatter, any time, over having to see them sucking face for one more second… Ugh!

  
“It’s disgusting! They look like a multi-arm monster, with a bad case of drooly mouth."

  
“Thanks for the unwanted visual!” I tell him, laughing at his aggravation, “You poor thing, your bother’s PDA bothering you?” I say in mocking, baby tone, cracking a big smile.

  
“Yeah, yeah. Wait until Prim starts dating. Watching your sibling with another person crazy glued to their face, is the worse!”

  
“Who said that Prim’s ever dating?” I snap at him, he laughs.  
“So, was Delly wrong about your time with Abernathy?” I can hear the smirk return to his voice.

  
I sigh, “I’d say he was in raw form today. He decided to tell me how to make friends, because apparently, I’m too gloomy for his liking.” the easy smile I had in my face falls, and I tell him morosely, “He told me, I was as charming as dead slug,” I shrug even if can’t see me. “He pay with a one hundred dollar bill, and told me to keep the change. His ticket was only nine dollars and fifty cents. I guess I can put up with him, if he plans on making me rich after every insult.”

  
I hear him make that growling sound he makes when he’s aggravated about something. I know he’s got half a mind to go find Haymitch, and rip him a new one, for what he said to me. But, Peeta is about the only person the drunkard genuinely likes in town; being completely friendless is possibly the worse fate that can befall a person, I don’t wish it even to confrontational Haymitch Abernathy, so, I change topics, before Peeta makes his mind about screaming at the man.

  
“So, other than building fondant masterpieces, while eavesdropping at gossip that comes through the bakery, what else have you been up to today?”

  
“Oh! Right! So, I went to the mall before my shift, and walked into that tuxedo store, intent on renting my prom garb… because, you know, I gotta look sharp for Prom pics, and end up feeling like a dumbass, when the lady at the counter asked what color my date’s dress was, so we could match it up,”

  
“Oh…” I stutter. I don’t know what else to say to that. I didn’t know he was going to Prom, let alone with a date! But he keeps talking on his conversational tone, completely oblivious of my slightly hurt, completely confused reaction.

  
“So, she’s like: ‘okay, what color dress is your date wearing?’, and I’m like, ‘well shoot, I have no clue!’ and then she suggested I called, and find out and then, come back to see my options,”

  
“Um… uh…” My brain must be broken, I can’t seem to give any other response, and then I feel a sharp pain squeezing my chest, because apparently it just registers, my best friend is going to prom with some girl, and this is the first I’ve heard of it.

  
I always thought, Peeta and I would skip prom, and instead, binge watch The Walking Dead, while eating copious amounts of pizza and root beer. I feel like I’m going to do something stupid, like cry about all this. I’m still sorting through all this conflicting, disconcerting emotions, when I realize he’s asked me a question, and is waiting for my response.

  
“What was that?” I rasp, clearing my throat in hopes that I can hide the shakiness in my voice.

  
“I said,” he says slowly, “what color vest and tie, should I wear to prom?”

  
“Um. I- I don’t know?” Before I can even start to ask myself why in hell is he asking ME, about this, he adds offhandedly.

  
“Well we have to match, according to the tuxedo lady, so… what color is your dress?”

  
He only gets dead silence from my end. My brain really, just tossed itself out of the window, leaving me on my own with this mess.

  
Peeta, sensing that I’ve gone mute, keeps talking, trying to prompt an answer from me, "Yeah, I figured it would be something in the family of forest green, but, since I’m not one hundred percent sure of that, I didn’t wanna show up to your door on Prom night wearing green, if you decided to wear red instead… You know, either color would look absolutely gorgeous on you, because you’re so pretty and all… bold colors look amazing with your skin… I think dark greens and blues make your beautiful gray eyes pop, that’s why I love it when you wear that navy sweater of yours so much…”

  
“Peeta?” I try to interrupt him. He does this when he’s nervous, goes on and on, on this long, erratic rants, and I usually have to end up shouting his name to bring him back to the present.

  
“I think it’s how I see colors, that I can tell you what’ll look nice. I’d say you couldn’t look any more hotter, if you wore flames, but that’s just my humble opinion, although, now that I think about it, you’ll look amazing wearing flames…”

  
“Peeta!” I try again, because by now, I’m pretty sure I know what’s this all about.

  
He never asked me, if I wanted to go to Prom with him, but he’s so worked up, I know it’s what’s causing this insanity. I need to calm him down. Now!

  
“To be honest, I don’t want you look at our prom pictures, in, I don’t know… twenty years, maybe? and cringe in regret, because we looked like a mismatched pair, who randomly met at the dance, so…”

  
“PEETA!” I finally yell out his name.

  
“Uh… Yeah?” I hear the hesitation in his voice.

  
“So, yeah…” I take a deep breath, composing myself, “since when are we going to prom?” the question is pointed, and spoken slowly.

  
The line goes silent for a beat, and then he whispers, very quietly, “Shit… I forgot to ask you, didn’t I?”

  
I burst out laughing, "That would be correct, buster,” I keep giggling at his harsh breathing on the other side of the line.

  
If I close my eyes, I can clearly picture him, running his fingers through his golden curls, musing his hair as he goes, while bitting his lower lip sheepishly. I love the image, more than I care to admit.

  
“Um… So, Katniss?” He says quietly, “Would you, like to go to Prom with me?” He stutters a breath right after, and then rushes to add, as if I need the clarification, “Officially… as my date. As in, we wear matching clothes, ride in a rented limo, I buy you flowers and a fancy dinner, kinda date,” his voice is hopeful.

  
I can’t stop smiling.

  
Peeta and had been friends since grade school. We’ve been in the same class since kindergarten, but we only spoke in grade school, when my father passed away, and my mother was so sad, she forgot to make us lunches for school.

  
Peeta noticed me and my sister Primrose, huddled at a table empty handed, and broke his PB  & J sandwich down the middle, sitting one half in front of Prim, and the other half in front of me, then he gave Prim his milk, even after I protested. Prim devoured her lunch so fast, I was afraid she’d make herself sick. I couldn’t blame her, though. It was the first thing we’ve eaten in a couple of days. So I finally gave in, and invited the kind boy with sweet blue eyes, and delicious bread, to sit with us. We became inseparable after that… anyone willing to feed Prim while going without, is worthy of my time and friendship, and Peeta has proven himself a thousand times over since.

  
The answer falls of my mouth, soft and shy, but without any hesitation, “Okay,”

  
He gives and incredulous little laugh, “So you’ll allow it?”

  
“I’ll allow it!” I say with my usual, self assured verb.

  
“Cool!” He gives a breathy, nervous giggle. He’s such a dork, but I love him all the same.

  
“Um, Peeta?”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“You wanna go dress shopping tomorrow after work, with me? I’ve got ninety bucks burning a hole in my pocket, begging to be spent, and I just got asked to Prom by this insanely hot dude… I think I saw a cute, sunset orange dress, that might be well inside my budget, but I think I’m gonna need your expert opinion, since you know all about colors go right with my skin!”

  
The chuckle he releases warms my insides, and I know I won’t regret my prom date.


	6. Prompt#17

_Thank you for the Prompt, Anon! Here it goes._

 

* * *

  
  
“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while,” my floor neighbor, Peeta, frowned while slipping his cellphone into the front pocket of his jeans. “Apparently there’s a blackout, affecting half the city, and nobody knows what caused it,”

  
“Oh… well, that sucks,” I tell him, my scowl settling on my face in a practiced manner.

  
Peeta sighed. “At least the new emergency lights work!” He says, trying to bring levity to our situation. “Might as well, make ourselves comfortable,” he motions to the floor of the elevator we occupy.

  
I try to smile at him in dim glare of the emergency lights. I think to myself, how lucky it is, that of all people living in this building, it was him, the one who ended up sharing this elevator with me. Peeta has always been a model neighbor: polite, conscientious, considerate, clean… and generous. Every time he bakes something, he makes the trek to my apartment, three doors down from his, and shares his food with me and my little sister.

  
Prim, my sister, insist he never shares his baked goods with the other tenants, and that he does with us, because he likes me. I’ve been hoping she’s right for a while, but he’s never said or done anything to either confirm or denied Prim’s claims. I think this blackout is blessing in disguise, and I will make the most out of it!  
“It’s lucky it was you holding the elevator for me in the lobby,” I say dropping my messenger bag on the floor, then sliding against the wall, until I join my bag.

  
He sits opposite me. But he makes a face, almost a grimace, “Actually, I was about to apologize for making you feel obligated to ride the elevator,” he says quietly, “I know you usually take the stairs up.” He lowers his sight to look at his shoes.

  
“I didn’t feel obligated!” I say rapidly, “I… I wanted to ride the elevator tonight,” my voice is like a decibel higher than normal. It’s true, I would’ve taken the stairs to our third floor, if it hadn’t been, because I entered the building right when the elevator doors were about to close, he was already in it, when he saw me, the look of surprise in his face and the way he threw his forearm out to keep the doors from closing, told me the action had been a gut reaction. “I’m actually very tired, and I didn’t wanna walk anymore than I had to!” I tell him.

  
“The truth is, I was happy you held the elevator for me. I really wanted to say hi to you… It feels like we haven’t seen each other for days,” I say suddenly feeling flustered and overheated.

  
“Four days, five hours… But, who’s counting?” He releases a nervous laugh.

  
I look up, and notice his cheeks are crimson. I wonder if he feels as hot as I do?

  
“You know you only have to knock on my door, if you ever want to see me,” I whisper locking my eyes to the frills of the worn hems of my pants.

  
“Even without cheese buns?” He asks in a hopeful tone.

  
I chance a glance to him, and smile shyly, “Even so. Although, I love cheese buns,”

  
“Mmm…” He scoots closer to me, until the toes of his shoes are touching mine, “and, what if I decide I’ll like to knock on your door every day?”

  
“That’s okay too,” I tell him holding his bright gaze.

  
He smiles sweetly at me, “Would it be pushing my luck, if I came with a movie and popcorn, stay there for a while?”

  
“Not at all. In fact, we could order pizza one night, have beers… or wine if Prim is not home…”

  
I see his eyes sparkle in the dim lights, his lips curl into a hopeful smile. With the agility of a cat, he holds himself off the ground with both his hands flat on the floor, and swivels around, until he sits heavily right next to me.

  
“Will there be a chance for that happen in the very near future?” He asks biting his lower lip.

  
I nod, “That can be arranged,” I breath out, and nudge his muscular arm with my shoulder. Our legs are touching, and slowly, our fingers tips touch on the floor.  
“Well… That’s good! I think I’m gonna enjoy this blackout,” he says softly.

  
My smile spreads, “I think the very same thing,”  
Are fingers intertwined with each other.

  
“Stay with me if I fall asleep,” I say laying my head on his shoulders.

  
He says something, but I must’ve been more tired than I thought. I’m asleep, before I can register what he’s just said.


	7. Prom Night, a sequel to Matching for Prom

_To Amy! Thank you for your support, here is a thank you ficlet just for you!_

 

* * *

 

 

**PROM NIGHT**

_a Sequel to " **Matching for Prom** "_

 

"Alright kids, smile at the camera for me..." Said the photographer in a too excited tone, for a person who's job had been snapping pictures under the ungodly heat of a gym full of rowdy teenagers, "and... Done!" The flash went off causing my sight to get blurry. If I close my eyes, I can see stars. "Come back in thirty minutes for a printed sample. Claim it with this stub,"

 

"Thank you," says Peeta to the man, reaching his arm to collect the stub, just inches around my ribcage. Peeta's just bought sixty five bucks worth of prom pictures, that more likely will find they're at into a box of high school memorabilia, gathering dust somewhere dark, forgotten by time. Still, his smile is so bright and big, I don't even have in me to roll my eyes at his extravagant purchase.

 

The photographer guy had us posed in a more intimate position than we've ever been: me in front of Peeta, his hands resting lightly on my waist, while my hands sit atop his. I can only hope the picture retouched the guy assured us came free with the package Peeta just bought, covers any harsh blushing that might've appeared on my face, when my best friend took advantage of the guy's directive, to put his hands me, and simply just wound his whole arm around my navel.

 

The way Peeta held me to him, felt possessive, stake claiming, even. I can't say I didn't secretly thrilled me, but I know my face was must like a tomato shade by the time the picture was snapped.

 

At the moment, Peeta's dragging me by the hand to our table, where the rest of our friends sit.

 

"I just wanna get something to drink, and then I wanna take you for a spin around the dance floor," he whispers in my ear, his body closer to mine than usual, the act of speaking so close to my ear somehow feels even more intimate than the whole picture thing.

 

I nod. I can't trust my voice right now.

 

We finally reach our table, and out of the other five people that sat with us, only my friend Madge and her boyfriend Gale, are still sitting there. Gale looks ticked off for some reason, but that's hardly strange for him. He's too serious a guy, an Madge is quiet as a mouse, I can't even begin to know how they ended up together.

 

Peeta pulls back my chair so I can sit, and leans down, to tell me he'll be back with a couple of Sprites.

 

I thank him, gratefully, and then I'm alone, with the other couple. I smiled at Madge.

 

"How are you enjoying the party?" She asks loudly, to compensate for the thundering music playing in the background.

 

"Pretty good. You?"

 

"Good!" She says, sipping on her Diet Coke.

 

Gale nods, and grunts his assent as well, but contributes nothing more.

 

"Where are the others?" I ask, slipping off my nude color heels, to splay my bare feet on the cold gym floor. I almost hiss in relief when my feet land on flat terrain.

 

"Finnick and Annie are dancing, and Johanna just saw that guy... the football player," She pauses, frowning, then she turns to Gale, "What's the guy's name again?"

 

"Blight?" He says scowling. "He isn't much, but Jo seems to like him." Says Gale before tipping back his cup of water.

 

"Yup! That's it! Blight. She went to say hello to him, apparently he came alone as well," said Madge conversationally.

 

"Huh. I wonder if that was more like a plan of them or something," I muse.

 

"Who knows, with Jo," says Gale, then looks down at his watch. "I wish Odair would hurry his ass up, and got back soon," he grits through his teeth.

 

"Why?" I ask.

 

Gale looks up, eyes widening, as if he's surprised I heard his comment about Finnick Odair, who's actually a college boy, already on his second semester of law school, but his very serious girlfriend is still a High School senior, just like the rest of us at the table.

 

Peeta sits a cup of soda right in front of my, and plops down on the chair next to mine. With the distraction of his arrival, Gale hastily pulls Madge up, and on to the dance floor. I find it really weird, even for Gale, to act that way, but I forget all about it, when I see my date's sweet smile; it has my insides melting like hot wax.

 

"Hi," he says softly, staring at me like I was a piece of fine art.

 

"Hi," I breath out, blushing furiously.

 

This exact, same shit, has been happening for the last few weeks leading up to prom. It's like we get caught up in this flirty, cutesy, school crush cycle, that really goes nowhere, but it's still strong enough to show us there has been a shift in our friendship.

 

It makes my stomach swoop, and scares me to the core. I'm not sure what's going to happen after this _'official date'_ , as he calls it. Will we progress onto something more? Will we keep things the same? Will we make this 'official dating' business a recurrent affair?

 

Then my mind runs away from me, and blush even more. What if he tries to kiss me? Will I let him? Of course I'll let him!!! Hell, I'll probably instigate the kiss if he takes too long to do it himself!

 

"Let's go dance," he says noting I've drained my drink in one pull.

 

He stands, and offers me his hand, which I take readily, smiling at him.

 

We reach the packed dance floor, where people are writhing against each other to some bopping dance song or another, their sound has mixed together to the point they're indistinguishable. The atmosphere is charged with electricity, and the smell of sweat permeates the air. Peeta and I, join the frenzy of the others like mindless lambs. It's good to lose ourselves in the drone of the repetitive beat, at least for a moment.

 

Tonight it's supposed to be the last time we go out, and act like reckless teenagers, that just want to feel the rush of endorphins released in our young brains, until is time to return to the challenge that's normal life.

 

I dance with careless abandon. The music, the heat, Peeta's closeness, everything is a mix of enablers, to my loosening inhibitors. I turn around in Peeta's arms, my back to his chest, and his hands plant themselves on my hips firmly, we grind against each other to the beat of the music; my arm snakes it's way around his neck, and I pull his face down to my own.

 

I've never been a fan of strapless dresses or tops- I don't think I have the chest to do the garments justice- but right now, I'm absolutely glad, I let Prim's squealing voice, influenced my choice in gown. It's a soft orange sparkly thing, with small crystal beads on the fitted bodice, and gauzy A line skirt that brush the top of my three inch pumps.

 

With the help of my outfit- heels particularly- I'm at the perfect hight, for Peeta to nuzzle his nose behind my ear easily.

 

He drags it back and forth across my neck and shoulder, causing my skin to break into a million goose bumps. He sighs contentedly, and suddenly we aren't dancing to the music's tempo anymore, we have slow down our frenetic thrashing, to a hypnotic trance, allowing ourself to become moving, sensuous flesh.

 

His finger tips trail up my arm, all the way to my bare shoulder, continuing to my neck, and then, he kisses right above the place his thumb is caressing the skin where my neck meets my shoulder.

 

A small moan escapes me. The kiss felt like a searing brand, left by his lips. It felt good, so impossibly good, I hope for another. I never knew this pleasure existed until just now, and the feeling in the pit of my stomach scares me to no end, yet, I don't want to move out of his arms, I don't his lips to leave my skin.

 

"I've been dying to do that all night," he chuckles breathlessly. "Hell, I've been dying for everything happening right this second all my life," his voice is raw, husky and dark.

 

I've never heard him sound like this before. A rush of arousal costs my underwear, not for the first time in my life, but the very first time, because of a boy's words and proximity. I'm not sure if I should be embarrassed and run for it, it if I should let him know how he's making me feel, I don't get to decide, because Johanna is making a beeline toward us, with that football player, Blight, and I can't read her expression in my own horny addled mind.

 

"Brainless! I'm leaving," she announces loudly, stepping not five inches from me.

 

Peeta and I detangle, the bubble of lust having been popped so rudely. "Um... okay?" I say tentatively, "I guess, thank you for coming to say bye-bye?" I say lamely, we didn't ride together after all. Peeta and I shared a limo with his cousin Delly and her boyfriend Thom, but they were only in the party for half an hour, gotten their pictures taken, said hello to the teachers chaperoning, and rushed out the door, to Thom's truck, parked in the student lot, left there earlier.

 

I _really_ rather think they went to catch a movie or something innocent of the sort... but, who am I kidding? It's prom night, four to five weeks from now pregnancy tests will litter the city's dump.

 

Johanna makes a face at me, "You truly are clueless!" She says flatly. "I'm, going, 'home', with Blight, in case anyone asks, including my grandma, capisce?" Her wide-set brown eyes bore into me, as understanding settles, with her quoting gesture, around the word 'home'.

 

"Okay?" Then I'm perturbed by the questions assaulting my mind, "hey! Did you tell your grandma you were staying with me?" I groan because her Cheshire Cat smile lets me know that's exactly what she did. "Why me? Why not Annie or Madge?" I whine.

 

Johanna rolls her eyes at me, "Because Finnick is taking Annie to this very expensive hotel he rented, and Gale and Madge somehow are hitching a ride with them to a similar place. Plus, it's not like you and blondie here are gonna go loose your respective v-cards to one another anyway,"

 

"You don't know that!" The childish protest slips my mouth before I can think better of it.

 

Johanna arches an eyebrow at me, and Peeta who's still an inch away from my back coughs loudly, choking on his own saliva. I'm mortified when Johanna finally starts to cackle like a witch, clearly dismissing the idea of me and Peeta actually going through with sex tonight.

 

I seriously would have to disagree, if the way we were dancing before she interrupted us was any indication of our mental state, but, I don't tell her that. "Fine!" I ground out finally, if only to get her to go away. "But you owe me. Big time!" I tell her.

 

"You won't collect, so, sure! I owe you. Big time!" She retorts mockingly. But soon, she gone, and Peeta and I stand frozen in the middle of the dance floor, too afraid to look at each other.

 

"Come on," he says quietly, bringing a warm, protective arm, around my shoulders, and guiding me back to our table.

 

I scan the gym, not seeing the rest of our friends. "You think they already left to wherever they had reservations to?" I ask still searching for them.

 

Peeta shrugs, and sits heavily next to me. "Does it matter?" He asks annoyedly.

 

"I guess not," I say bringing my eyes to him, for the first time since Johanna.

 

"Look," he sighs deeply, readying himself to some well intentioned, but utterly unnecessary, speech. "We... We don't have to... We could just... " he growls in aggravation, fisting his neatly combed hair, messing it all up, when he pulls on it.

 

I react before I realize what I'm doing, but my hands are detangling his from his once gelled up curls.

 

"No. We will talk about this, like normally talk about everything, okay?" I say more calmly than I feel. "We are best friends, first and foremost. We can hash this out like everything else,"

 

I peer at him, and he nods.

 

Covering his face with both hands, he waits a moment, before glancing back at me, "I'm in love you with you," he says bluntly. His blue eyes are intense, and firm, and captivating. "I've been in love with you since we were five. The day you invited me to sit at your table during lunch, was the best day of my life, and I can never tell you how distressed and guilty I've always felt about it, since I know it was possibly one of the worst days for you and Prim. But, I love you. I can't stop it, I can't change it, and I'm terrified you'll cut away from your life now that you know how I feel."

 

He slumps in his chair mutely, as if his confession had drained him from his last drop of energy.

 

"It's okay, if you don't feel the same way about me. It's okay if you rather never speak to me again. But, I had to tell you, or I was going to combust." He says lowly, rubbing his hand over his forehead and eyes roughly.

 

I just sit there, staring at the table cloth. My mind is completely blank for like it feels like forever, until slowly, I realize there's a new type of music playing in the background. It's just the last few notes of Aerosmith's _'I Don't Want to Miss a Thing'_ , and then the smooth, deep voice of DJ Cinna, cuts through the fog in my mind, announcing the next requested _oldie_. My eyes widened, and I look up at the DJ table, the lights of the disco ball hanging from the ceiling for the occasion, pepper the place with dots of light, and I know what is it that I want. The setting is perfect.

 

I stand up, and pull an incredulous Peeta to his feet, never tearing my eyes from his wide ones, I walk us to the dance floor, as the notes of the acoustic guitar floods the gym, followed by a snare and a cymbal... I pull his arm around my waist, and take his free hand in mine, and then coil my own arm over his shoulders, until my fingers touch the hairs at the nape of his head. We start swaying, when the first line of the lyrics fall of my lips:

 

_"Kiss me, out of the bearded barley.  
Nightly, beside the green, green grass."_

  
His eyes shine, his mouth opens, his arms tighten around me, I know he loves to hear me sing. I know this song will go down as his hymn of triumph for posterity.

  
_"Swing, swing, swing the spinning step."_

  
His lips curl into a shy, infatuated smile, which I return, with a blush.

  
_"You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress."_

  
And then, right when I brace myself to sing the chorus, he's spinning me, so fast, he lifts my feet half and inch of the ground.

  
_"Oh, kiss me, beneath the milky twilight."_

  
My arms lock tightly around his neck, and I heave my breath, trying to sing the words along, between happy giggles.

  
" _Lead me out on the moonlit floor,_  
_Lift your open hand,_  
_Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance,_  
_Silver moon's sparkling,"_

  
He finally puts me down, and I look right into his eyes, when I sing the last line,

  
_"So kiss me..."_

  
He obliges, and I have no recollection of when the song ended; his hands are still cupping my face, and his smiling lips are raining tiny kisses all over my face, when DJ Cinna breaks our dreamlike haze, announcing the next song. 

  
"Are you okay with this?" Peeta asks still giddy, kissing my nose.

  
"I sure am buster. I sure am!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics: "Kiss me" by Sixpence None the Richer, in italic


	8. Prompt #22

Hi Anon!!! Thank you for the Prompt!!

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” Peeta’s voice is soft, his eyes are still riveted to the sketch of Mags he’s shading.

My eyes flit wildly all around the room, not sure where to land. I blush furiously, mortified at being caught staring at him, when I thought I was being so sneaky and inconspicuous; clearly my skills are failing me around him, yet, he was the one who caught _me_ , by surprised.

“Sorry,” I mumble so low, it’s barely intelligible. “I didn’t realized you were… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” I say trying to shove down my embarrassment.

He frowns. He uses the back of his hand, to gently smooth out the page he was working on, appraising his own work critically, before addressing me again.

“It’s alright Katniss. I’ve spent half my life staring at you too,” he’s got a pained sideways smile on his face. He blows over the sketch, as he usually does to all his drawings, after he’s done, to scatter off any charcoal particulates from his finished product.

He finally turns to me, still sporting that sad smile, “It just goes to further confirm my suspicion,” he says searching my eyes.

“Of what?” My voice cracks weakly, my chest tightens, and my heart rate accelerates, dreading his explanation.

“We are cards of the same suit. Peas of the same pod. Two of a single kind, or one and the same. We’re a matched pair.”

He takes a deep breath, his blue eyes, that look so much like that they used to, before he was touched and corrupted by Snow and his torture, are still regarding me, studying me. Like he has all the time in the world, but can't wait to learn every little quirk of my person.

I didn’t know how aware he was of me, until right now. I know I haven’t been able to stifled down the feelings and emotions he’s unearthed in me. Feelings I never thought I’d experience with a boy, emotions I thought had burnt away with Prim, and the ¾ of my body’s skin, but here I am, staring at my Boy with the Bread, unabashedly, trying to memorize every dip, every scar, every risen edge of his face. I still can’t figure out, how his eyelashes can stay untangled when he blinks; I still get lost in his facial expression when he concentrates.

For the first time in my life, I don’t want us to look away from each other. For the first time, I want to confront this feelings I have for him head on.

“Is that a bad thing?” I ask him with an edge of challenge.

“I’m not sure,” He trails off, “At one point, before any of this had happened, I might’ve thought so. But now, I’m not sure, if being so alike, means we were never meant to be,” shaking his head slowly, his eyes lost in a far off place, only he can see.

“I don’t think it is,” I exclaim vehemently. Impulsively, I pull his hand to me, cradling it between my two smaller ones, up against my chest, where my hearts it’s about to burst.

I’m not very articulate, I know. I only hope my eyes can convey what my mediocre attempt at speaking can’t, and I hope he understands, I’m sincere, because this will probably the hardest thing I’ve ever have to say.

“Peeta, we are alike in the things that matter, but we are also different in the things that count. We balance each other. Being two peas of the same pod, together in this pot, only means, that we are finally where we're supposed to be. We are finally where we belong. You and me. We were _always_ , meant to be,”

He’s staring at me. His eyes soft and sweet, scan my face, searching.

He finally nods, and squeezes my hands in his larger one. “Alright, Katniss,” he says, and when he looks back up at me, his smile is genuine, sweet, and shy, and just the one, that screams ’ _This_ , is My Peeta!’, “We were always meant to be.”

“Real.” I tell him, because he needs to be reinforce the knowledge.

He smiles brightly at me, kissing my cheek sweetly. “Real,” he answers, because he will never doubt it again.

My heart stammers in my chest, and I respond with a shy smile of my own. We were meant to be.


	9. Everlark "You make me so…" + BFF :D

_Thank you dear @thelettersfromnoone!_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I drop the last box of my meager belongings on the middle of my new bedroom, and look around satisfied with how everything has turned out.

"What do you think?" My best friend asks entering the room.

"Not too shabby! I like the paint job, remind me to reward the painter with some actual food, instead of my usual fare of top ramen," I say winking and smiling at him.

He chuckles and shakes his head ruefully, watching me with happy blue eyes under his long blonde lashes. "I don't need any repayment, you having agreed to take up the spare room and help me with the bills, is more than enough for me," he tells me I'm his usual, gentle voice, that makes me feel so safe and calm.

In all honesty, this arrangement is going to benefit me more than him, in so many ways. I just hope I don't screw things up like I normally do, and scare him off, because I really like being around him. He's more than just my best friend, his my everything right now, and I hope I can become everything for him as well.

"Peeta, you went above and beyond with this move. You painted my room into a freaking forest! You deserve anything you want!"

I watch his eyes widened, and return to their normal size, the way he's looking at me makes a shiver run down my spine, like he would literally take _anything_ he wants... the thing is, I would let him, happily.

He licks his lips carefully before speaking, "You said you missed the woods back home," he shrugs, "I figured I'd bring them to you," he sighs, reaching a tentative hand to push the few strands of hair falling from my braid behind my ear, ever so slowly, "I really don't want you think that you owe me anything, you're doing me a favor..."

"No, you are the one doing me a favor," I cut him off with my firm protest.

"Katniss," he says my name quietly, looking at me with such devotion it leaves me breathless.

I know for sure, what we have goes beyond friendship, but he won't take the first step, so I will.

"Peeta, you've always been there for me, no matter the circumstances, you've been there. You're my rock, my best friend, my everything... I will give you anything, because you make me feel loved and taken care of, and that's more than anyone has ever done for me in years," I say vehemently, staring up into his impossibly blue eyes.

"Katniss, I wish you knew." He says cupping my face in his hand.

"Knew what?" I whisper inching closer to him.

"The effect you can have,"

"Tell me," I breath out slowly.

"You make me so..."

I don't know how the sentence was going to end, because as a moth attracted to fire, my lips pressed against his, and all his words died out, when he gathered me into his arms, and together lost ourselves into the first kiss of the ones exchanged, during the remainder of our lives.


	10. Prompts 3 & 18: 'I love you' and 'BFF'

_Thanks for the Prompt Anon! I’m always taking prompts, even if I don’t answer them right away. Hope you like this one!_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“I love you!” She tells me shyly, yet her eyes are bright and smiling.

“I love you too,” I respond a little breathlessly, looking into her beautiful gray eyes.

“You’re my best friend, Peeta. Don’t ever forget that,” she tells me squeezing my hands in hers.

I smile sadly at her before responding quietly, “I won’t… It’s you I’m worried will forget all about boring old me,”

She laughs, that melodic sound that makes my heart soar.m, shaking her head, contradicting my statement, “Won’t ever happen, Mellark, not in a million years. You snuck up on me, and rooted yourself deep inside my heart. Plus, I’ll be gone only three weeks, then we will be together, as we should,”

Her eyes are full of something I don’t readily recognized, but I do see her lip quiver almost imperceptibly, only someone who’s spent his whole life watching and memorizing Katniss Everdeen’s every move, would pick up on the slight tremble of her voice.

She’s worked so hard for this trip to Europe, and she almost backed out of it, for fear of being away so long. It took all my powers of persuasion to make her see, how this opportunity would benefit her so much, and in turn, benefit her family. At the end, she made the right decision, but it’s costing her a lot of bravery, and I’m so proud of her, for taking this chance, so I tell her as much.

“I’m very proud of you, Katniss. I know you’ll make the most out of this journey. Enjoy the sights, enjoy the food, learn all you can from your professors and colleagues. I know you’ll do great in your internship. You have an effect on people, anyone would kill for. They’ll be thrilled to have you take part in this adventure,”

She smiles, holding back tears.

“Look after Prim and my mom, for me?”

“I will,” I tell her without hesitation. She’s doing this partly to better her and her family’s situation, her sister Prim will start Med school next year, and they need all the financial support they can get.

“I’ll Skype you as soon as I get a chance,” she tells me, tripping over her words.

I try to calm her down by combing a loose strand of dark hair, behind her ear, “Do that. I’ll be waiting for you,” and I mean this more than a mere Skype call from across the world, I mean this as: I’ll be waiting for you, _Always._

She hugs me then, and shoulders up her small duffle bag, and her beat up carry-on case. She steps into the TSA line, waiting her turn, looking nervous and excited, and as beautiful as ever. I can’t take my eyes away from her, my heart constricts in my chest, and I feel like I’m going to cry. I know I’ll meet her here again in less than a month, but this will be the longest we’ve ever been separated for, and it’s being tough on both of us already, but she’s excited, and deserves this, so I put on my best smile when she glances back at me to wave a final goodbye. And then she’s gone.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

I’m standing by the baggage carousel that corresponds to the flight from Munich, Germany. I’ve been here, with a welcome home mylar ballon and a bouquet of droopy dandelions I picked before leaving for the airport. Dandelions are her favorite flower, she insists the yellow blooms reminds her of me, somehow, I won’t argue with it, as long as the memories are nice and happy.

I grimace looking at my sad bunch of dying flowers, and thought crosses my mind, I should’ve put them in water or something. She’s going to chastise me as soon as she sees them. She would’ve known the heat of the day was going to hurt the cheerful weeds, but I’m not her, and I decided that’s yet, another reason, why I have to tell her how I feel for her right now: she knows things, things I ignore, and with her knowledge, I could make so much more smarter, informed decisions!

We’ve spoken through Skype almost everyday, but it isn’t the same. I can’t wait to see her in person, to be able to hug her, and whisper in her ear how much I’ve missed her. I don’t care if she’s telling me off for presenting her with browning dandelions, as long as I can see the her facial expressions in real time!

I’m so lost in my thoughts, I only realize she’s ten inches away from colliding with me, when the bell abounding the luggage is being loaded on the carousel belt goes off, and I see a blur of black hair and gray eyes, running head on in my direction.

Bracing for impact was no use. She charged me with enough force to topple us over, and down to the hard floor.

I land on my back with a loud thud, her on top of me. There’s only a second or two, between she knocking out the air in lungs by crashing into me, and the moment in which our eyes connect for a fraction of a second, and then, without warning, she takes my breath away, _again_ , this time crashing her mouth against mine.

The kiss is full of teeth, lip balm and giggles I think come from her. It’s also too short for my liking, but I guess I need to breath at some point. She’s smiling at me widely, eyes shining and full of happiness, when we finally separate and I have a chance to look at her properly. She plants me an extra peck on my lips, and springs up, pulling me to my feet with her. I’m disoriented, dazed and also a little confused. I’m not sure what to make of this effusive hello, this reaction isn’t anything like her at all! But before I can say anything to her, she surprises me,

“I love you!”

She doesn’t tell me in what way. I guess after the kiss, and the way she’s looking at me, with starts in her eyes, it’s pretty clear _how_ , she loves me.

“I love you too, Katniss,” I gasp still trying to regain some control, over my breathing.

She stands on her tip-toes, curling her arms around my neck, and smirks quipping a cheeky, “I know!” followed by a slower, much longer kiss.


	11. Anonymous tumblr Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon Prompt: where Katniss is dating someone else (like Gale or someone different) and Peeta has been in love with her for years but he's this cute, shy, kinda nerdy cinnamon roll:)

_Thank you for the prompt dear Anon. Sorry it took me so freakishly long to get back to you. RL has been crazy busy lately. Hope this is enjoyable, it's un-betaed, and edited on the fly, excuse the mistakes._

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"How can I help you today?" Peeta smiled timidly, from behind the bakery's counter.

Katniss returned the smile uneasily, "Um, I'm here to place an order. For a w-w-wedding cake," her voice dropped along with her eyes. How was she supposed to face all this event, if she couldn't even say the word 'wedding' without choking on it.

Peeta blinked. His eyes flew to the girl's hands hidden from sight behind the counter, where she was wringing them furiously.

The young baker tried to push down the panic forming in his chest, before he started dry heaving; he was a professional, and he would act like it, even if the woman he had loved since his early childhood was there to announce her marriage to her long time beau, Gale Hawthorne.

He cleared his throat, bidding the dryness formed there away, and hoped his voice would hold until the transaction was over.

"Sure," He said roughly, clearing his voice loudly again, "When is the special date?" He asked holding onto the edge of the worn counter for dear life, lets he fell and made a bigger fool of himself, than he'd done so far.

Katniss glanced at him from under her lashes, her nervous eyes flitting away almost as fast. "I... I think she's planing on going to the Courthouse in three weeks."

Peeta looked up suddenly, " _She_?" His voice came out raspy and low, "Is, uh, the cake not for _your_ wedding?" He asked with desperation he couldn't quite conceal.

Katniss' widened eyes returned to Peeta's blue ones, in shock that he would even ask that to her. "No!" She partially growl, seemingly offended. "My sister Prim, she's... She's getting... You know, _married_ to that Cartwright kid," She looked at him quizzically, her signature scowl clearly displayed on her face for everyone to see, "Isn't he your cousin?" The accusing tone in her voice made him grimace, but he felt his mounting stress dissolve almost instantly as soon as he realized _she_ wasn't getting married.

He nodded sheepishly, his eyes full of apologies. "Dylan's my cousin, yes. I wasn't aware him and Primrose were that serious," he aid lamely.

"Never mind that!" She snapped rolling her eyes. "Why would you think _I_ was getting married?" She asked suspiciously,

"Oh... Uh..." The panic was back full force, his eyes roamed around the empty bakery front, trying to fix his gaze into something less scary than facing the girl in fro t of him was at the moment.

He finally sighed, and brought his eyes back to her's, she was still scowling something fierce, and her silver-gray eyes scrutinized his face openly.

"I just thought... You're... She's so young..." But he didn't finished his thought. He stopped, shook his head and smiled at her shyly. He picked up a pen and booklet from besides the register, and motioned for her to sit on a table at the back of the store. "Tell about Primrose," he said, deciding it was best to talk cake. "What does she like?"

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Four weeks, to the day when Katniss went to Mellark's Bakery to order her sister's wedding cake, Peeta stood at the round table at the reception, cutting pieces of his beautiful cake masterpiece, serving it to wedding guests as they crowded his table.

He smiled at everybody handing them a slice of his delectable work of art, taking their compliments bashfully, but still not shrinking away from the attention. The truth was, he had outdone himself, and that was saying something!

The cake stood at an impressive three feet, with seven layers of fluffyness, in different diameters of size, supported by Roman style pillars between cakes, and a battery operated water fountain between the last and second to last storie. Each layer was covered in pure white fondant, with yellow and white primroses in strategic places for accents. He had hand made everything, including the sugar sculpture of the bride and groom that sat atop.

But all the artistry of the outside of the cake aside, it was the flavors that exploded in the people's mouths at first bite, what made them flock back to the table for seconds, with words of praise falling from their lips non-stop.

Peeta was so busy, trying to keep up with the cake demand, that he didn't noticed Katniss' presence until she tapped him on the shoulder, to get his attention.

He nearly jumped out of his skin, both from surprise and her proximity.

"Hey!" She said with a wide smile.

"Hey!" He returned turning beet red.

"You know, I hired an entire staff of servers that can take care of the rest of that cake for you, right?" She asked amusedly.

"I don't mind serving." He said with downcast eyes.

"Peeta, you're a guest! You're not here as _the baker_ , you know," she smirked at him, forming quotation signs with her fingers at the word baker. His stomach jumped and twisted at the sight of her curling lips.

She looked so beautiful, he wondered how could somebody looked so gorgeous and still be single? Not that he was complaining about it.

"Come on," She nudged him away from the table, and he reluctantly surrender his cake knife kit to one of the hired waiters and let Katniss take him away.

She led him out to the dancing floor, and with a soft smile motioned for him to dance with her. He took her extended hand in his marveling at the feel of her skin, almost as rough as his own, with almost as many scars from hard labor as well, but beautiful and delicate at the same time. He couldn't believe he was actually dancing with her... at someone's wedding!

"So, how are you enjoying the festivities?" He asked softly, right before taking a wide spin across the floor.

She sighed deeply, before twisting the left side of her lips downward. "As well as the big sister of the nineteen year old, pregnant bride, would, I guess." Her voice was flat, but her eyes told him she wasn't nearly okay with any of the things happening.

One of the good things that came out making that wedding cake, was that Peeta had ample opportunity to talk to Katniss. It was usually about her order, and he would sometimes strictly only talk about sugar flowers, since he was trying to make her comfortable talking to him, it was still a good an excuse as any to get to hear her voice, but along the way, she started to relax more around him, and their conversation would expand to topics beyond the pastry business.

"I'm sorry," he said smiling sadly at her, "If it's any consolation... I'm having the time of my life!" He said trying to lighten the mood.

She stopped, leaned back to look at his face and scowled at him, before breaking into a full belly laugh, that had him giddy and a little dazed.

After the second week after she placed her order, Katniss realized Peeta had no idea the reason her sister was getting married so fast, was because his cousin, Dylan, had knocked her up. To say she was shocked was an understatement. Peeta blushed furiously, explaining he wasn't much for gossip, and usually only stuck to work and keeping to himself, and he had no real comment about their situation, since it wasn't _his_ situation to comment about.

At first, Katniss didn't know what to make of him, she appreciate his open minded discretion; Prim had already been criticized, belittled and gossiped about by her piers and neighbors, as if she was the first girl to ever fall prey to fleshy temptations, in fact, Peeta had been a wealth of support and understanding, with his quiet, easy demeanor, always listening to Katniss' fears without a word of judgement.

He was polite, sweet and generous, striving to make her feel welcome in his shop, that she visited more than was necessary, if she was honest with herself. But she found she enjoyed being around him. He was so sweet! He found out she loved his specialty cheese buns, and started keeping a bag full of them at hand, so she could take them home.

She was also admired how much he took his job seriously. The pride and commitment he showed for his work, made her respect his work ethic. He was so detail oriented, and she loved coming into the store, when he was elbow deep in flour, just so she could get lost on the movements of his strong arms and hands, as he worked dough, or shaped delicate confection flowers. She found watching him work, relaxed her, made her forget her woes.

Katniss surprised herself more than once, at how fixed with fascination she got, watching him. Those were the times, she let her painstakingly built walls fall, and became open and honest, allowing him to know the real Katniss Everdeen. He caught on fairly quickly to that rare allowance, and vowed to never betray her hard sought trust.

"You're terrible!" She accused, between bouts of giggles. "You probably can't wait for this song to be over, so you can run back to tend to the cake!" They were both laughing together. The moment was perfect, and he wished it was real.

There was only one topic they never broached in the weeks it took for them to become friends, and _he_ was staring at them from the edge of the dance floor.

Peeta couldn't bring himself to ask Katniss about what the deal was with Gale. They had been dating for longer than he felt comfortable thinking about it, they seemed to be stuck in some bizarre rut, with no possibility of advancement. But with the tall, dark and handsome man's eyes fixed on them, following their every move, Peeta felt compelled to say something.

"I'm not as keen to have this song end as your friend Gale over there," he said while his blue eyes flit to Gale, and then fell to the floor between him and his dance partner, widening the gap between their bodies, with the descent of his eyes.

Katniss scowled.

"What?" She asked confusedly. Then her eyes located Gale, standing a rock's throw away, looking sour and annoyed. She realized what Peeta was referring to. "Oh..." She trailed off, subconsciously clinging to Peeta's broad shoulders with renewed strength.

"Yeah. I guess my welcome in this dance floor has expired." He said quietly, giving her a little smirk when she frowned.

He let his hands slide from her waist, where they had held her while they danced, and gently ran the length of her arms until he clasped her hands in his. He smiled at her softly. "Thanks for the dance,"

"What... Why... I thought you were _having the time of your life_ ," she muttered dejectedly.

"I am... Or was. I just don't want to cause any problems between you and your... Um... Gale," he responded lamely.

"What does Gale have to do with us dancing at my sister's wedding?" She asked harshly.

Peeta winced, but smiled at her sweetly, "Well, if I were your boyfriend, I'd be pissed off another guy was making you laugh as hard as you've been laughing. I can see how a guy can get jealous, and I don't want to cause any friction..."

Katniss cut him off. "My boyfriend? Gale and I aren't like that!" She protested, "at least, we aren't exclusive. Why, he's been flirting with other girls all night," she had a very disgruntled look about her face, it made him think she was adorable, the way her mouth was pursed and her brows furrowed, those gray eyes of hers digging holes into his soul.

He shook his head slowly. "Katniss, we've become friends, right?" He asked.

"Right," she agreed.

"Then let's be honest for a moment," He looked her right in the eyes, it was the longest they've ever stared at each other like that. It didn't matter they were still standing on the middle of the dancing area, making other pairs, having to swerve around them.

"Did you pull me here to dance with you, because Gale was flirting away? Or did you do it because you wanted to dance with me? Did you wanted to dance with me to forget about Prim growing up too fast, leaving your home, and starting a family of her own? Or because you just wanted to hang out, and... Take me away from my baby?" He said nodding towards the cake table at the other side of the room. That last part caused her hard facial muscles to soften, and a slight smile poke it's way through.

She was back to scowling, and crossing her arms under her chest in no time.

"Does it matter?" She asked uneasily, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Well... Since I'm asking, then, yeah." He responded with a hand gesture.

She let an exaggerated breath cross her lips. "Fine. Almost all of the above. I don't care what Gale thinks, but did I want to hang out with you, because you were obsessed with that cake! You were even measuring the width of the slices you served... who does that?" She looked at him shaking her head in chastisement, he chuckled ducking his head, but she continued her answer, "I just needed to be with someone who'd made me know things would be fine for me and Prim, and our little family. It used to be just the two of us for so long, and now it's just me..." Her eyes filled with tears, and she shook them away quickly.

"Prim is not nearly old enough to be a mother, but she's definitely too young to be a wife. What's going to happen with college, and all her aspirations? I worked so hard to give her a better chance at life, but I feel like I somehow failed her..."

"No, you didn't!" Peeta cut her off firmly, holding her by the shoulders and pulling her into a bear hug and out of the ring of dancers. She melted into his warmth right away, feeling all her fears mellow out for a second. "You didn't failed Prim at all. Her getting pregnant wasn't your doing. You have to believe that having a baby is not a curse, it will be a blessing, you'll see! You also have to know, you gave her the tools to go forward from here, whatever she does, she couldn't get a better support system than you.

"Plus, look at her!" He said bringing Katniss out of his embrace, turning her to face a smiling, dancing Prim, in her flowy empire cut wedding dress, that hid the small swell of her belly neatly. Prim was radiant, and her groom looked like he was walking on cloud nine. "She looks so happy, Katniss. And that's all thanks to you." Peeta whispered.

"She does look happy, doesn't she?" Katniss mused, smiling slightly.

Then, Mister Cartwright cut in between his son and new daughter-in-Law for a dance, smiling sweetly at the blue eyed beauty, and Peeta said softly, "She's gonna be alright, Katniss. The Cartwrights already love her."

Katniss turned to peer up at Peeta, "They do?" She asked in a quivery voice.

"Of course they do! You heard Delly fuzzing over her earlier, snapping at her brother for not taking her to get a snack before the party." Peeta smiled remembering Delly's squeaky voice, telling Dylan off while putting a plate of grapes together for Prim.

Katniss laughed, thinking of the same thing. "Thank you. You've been... I don't know how I would have gone through this without your words. You always know what to say to fix everything," she lifted on tip toes, and kissed his cheek sweetly.

Peeta blushed and stuttered for a moment, not finding a good enough response to give her.

Katniss stood next to Peeta, turning her attention to her sister. Gale had seemingly lost interest in them, and was dancing himself with a red headed girl with a pinched face reminiscing of a fox. They stood quietly, close enough to brush arms against one another. Then Katniss broke the silence.

"I'm not exclusive with Gale," she whispered the statement, he looked down at her quizzically. "I have a chronic panic of marriages, I think they're all doom to end badly. I can't picture myself being a mother, I'm afraid I won't be any good at it. I'm the worst communicator I know, I don't know how to talk about my feelings. I'm stubborn and set in my ways... yet, I'll be willing to change my mind, if the right guy ever came along, taking the chance to help me get over my phobias."

Peeta's eyes widened, his heart rate spiked, he felt his chest rise and fall rapidly as his breathing became labored. His mouth opened, and closed, and opened again.

Her gray eyes, flit to his blue ones for a moment, her face was impassive, not giving anything up, "This guy has to be real patient, though. I've been told people don't know what to do with me,"

He chuckled, "Oh, I think there's at least one guy willing to take the challenge on," he said, staring out at the dancing bride.

"I hope he'd hurry up already. My baby sister just got married. I'm falling behind in the schedule."

"Wow, you forgot to list how impatient you are," he trailed off with an amused smile on his giddy face. She smirked, "Don't worry,, he told her, "the guy will make his move, I can assure you... right after I stuff you with cake. I didn't work that hard for you not to taste it!" He grabbed her hand, and pulled her with him away from the crowed floor.


	12. Roomates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed.
> 
> Tumblr propmt: Roomates

**Rated:** T

 **Prompt:** _Roommates._

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

"How was I ever so lucky, to land you as roommate?" She asked possibly for the millionth time in the two years they've been sharing the small two bed/one bath/zero privacy apartment.

She smiled gratefully at him, when he filled up the mug she cradled in her hands, with hot chocolate, to go with the pile of freshly baked cheese buns he'd just dished out for her.

He smirked cockily, before responding with his go to answer, "The odds were in our favor!"

"Cheers to that!" She exclaimed rising her mug to cling it against his own.

In reality, she wouldn't call it much odds, but fluke, they found themselves in the same building, at the very same time, inquiring about the very same apartment. But maybe it was luck, or the gods, or the universe, that brought them there that day; he needed a place to live, and she desperately needed a person to help with the bills.

They recognized each other from back home in Panem, where they lived their whole childhood, they went to same school, graduated the same year, and now attended the same college, but they had never spoken to one another; but they recognized each other... instantly, the kind, selfless Boy with the Bread, and the cute, fearless Huntress with the Braid.

They smiled shyly at each other, they realized the small little conundrum they were in, and he suggested they both took the place. The rest was history.

At first it was awkward, strange even, living with a boy. The last time a male person had shared her living spaces, she had been eleven. He on the other hand, was adept at sharing the bathroom with a girl; she soon learned, that growing up in a house full of boys, didn't mean his mother allowed for untidiness. But with him, it was more than just that.

He always went above and beyond, to make her feel comfortable around him. To make their small place feel like home for both of them. He was open and generous with his time, his food and his wisdom. He always had a kind word for her, accompany of a smile, and she couldn't help it, but to trust him, the longer their living arrangements went on.

They were friends. Best friends. The hitch was there were deeper feelings there, between the two roommates; unexplored feelings. Unspoken and usually ignored, in favor of keeping a semblance of propriety and separation, but the lines had steadily gotten blurrier and blurrier, as time went by.

Still, neither of them called attention to the obvious attraction growing and expanding, systematically taking over the 'platonic' relationship, they had wordlessly agreed upon.

"So, do you have any plans for today?" He asked lowering himself into his chair at the small breakfast bar they used for every meal.

"Same thing I do every night, Pinky," she answered humorously.

"Trying to take over the couch and the remote?" He tossed at her, with a sideways smile.

"That's exactly right!" She said, jumping from her own chair to stand next to him. She planted a peck on his temple, before stuffing a whole cheese bun in her mouth, "I need to go to the library for a few hours though. But I'm already looking forward to vegged out on the couch with you. You know, to start our weekend right!"

He chuckled, pulling her to him with an arm coiled around her waist. His lips fell short of her's when he smack a sloppy kiss dangerously closed to her mouth. They had been playing that game for months now, and the anticipation was delightfully thrilling.

 

~*~*~

 

It was late afternoon when a set of keys to their apartment, jingled merrily on the other side of the door. A damp mop of curly blond hair peeked from outside, and then a heavy something was placed on the floor with a dull thud, next to the entryway.

"Katniss, I'm home!" He called in a sing-song voice, deep and male and so very tempting.

She poked her head from around the couch, she was already occupying, to peer at him.

He smiled at the gray eyes that stared at him, swirling and molted in color, a mix he wished he could replicate in canvas, but usually fell short to reflect the layers of lively beauty enclosed in them.

"Hi there," he said quietly.

"Hi," she gave back, lifting her upper body from the comfort of her couch, on her elbows, "Had a good practice?" She asked taking in his appearance: white cotton t-shirt with their school logo on it, that fit snuggly over bulging muscles, charcoal gray basketball shorts that fit him enticingly, short white socks that disappeared into well broken in sneakers, and the barely sun kiss skin of his strong forearms and well defined legs.

Yes, he just came in from wrestling practice. He took a shower before heading home too.

"Like what you see, miss Everdeen?" He smiled turning slightly pink around the ears and cheeks, "You're making me feel like I'm a piece of meat on a display case," He said quietly.

She quickly averted her eyes, an amused, if a bit embarrassed grin taking over her blushing face.

"Actually I do like what I see," she said coyly, "You brought pizza and root beer," she pointed a finger a the box he sat on the table, next to the two litter bottle of drink.

His blue eyes fell to the food he just brought in, surprised at first, but then crinkling with laughter.

"You're a piece of work, Everdeen!" He cried out, quickly jumping over the couch, making her squeal, when landed barely ten inches above her body.

"Peeta!" She screamed amidst laughs.

He took the opportunity, as an invitation to tickle her mercilessly, "So that's what you keep me around for? For my pizza?" He said as he dug his fingers into her sides, making her gasp with laughter.

She shrieked nasal "YES!" before he attacked her ribs with renewed force.

"And what makes you so sure I'm gonna share my spoils with you, missy?" He asked laughing, using his nose to tickle her neck, making her kick and thrash under his weight, fighting to get air into her lungs.

"Because you love me!" Gasped out breathlessly.

He froze on top of her, at her words.

She opened her eyes, that had been shut tight during most of the tickle attack, and immediately found his face, hovering mere inches above her's. His lips were parted in a silent plea, his eyes so deeply blue, roaming over her face hungrily, his nostrils flaring with the forceful intake of air he took, and his brow furrowed in question.

Her breathing was labored, almost much as his was. She felt a pang of fear taking over her chest, and threatening to take over her being, she was about to say something, anything, even though she was rotten at speech, but before she could let out her urgent request of "Say something," he crushed his mouth to her partially opened one, and devoured her whole.

After what felt like hours, he dragged his lips across her cheek, to her ear, where he ask huskily, "How about you? You love me, real or not real?"

"Real," she whispered reverently.

"Good..." He breathed out with a small chuckle, resting his forehead on hers, "That'll make things so much easier around her," he mumbled still chuckling softly.

"How so?" She asked curiously. If anything, she thought this whole thing would further complicate a previously easily life together. But he surprised her, digging his fingers into her ribs, on the same spot that made her squeal with laughter, and right before he started tickling her again, he whispered,

"Oh sweetheart, we can mix our laundry, and only one of us has to buy detergent from now on!" His moved his digits against her sides, making her squirm.

"We already do that!" She shouted already loosing breath.

"We will move to the one bedroom apartment that just became available on the first floor," he countered burying his face into her neck to kiss the tickling spot there.

"Aren't you full of assumptions, mister?" She squealed, pawing at him feebly, trying to defend herself, "Who says we're going further than the one kiss?" Another squeal.

"My dear, we fall asleep tangled up together in the couch more often than not, getting a bigger bed to share it, it's just good, sound logic for our next step!" He took her earlobe between his teeth, and instead of a squeal, she released a soft, quivery moan.

He took advantage of the small change, and with a swift move, wiggled his hips between her parted thighs.

Her breath hitched at the sensation of their centers meeting beneath the layers of their clothing.

"Mmmm... Something tells me, you won't oppose to this closeness in the near future," he whispered into her ear, slightly pressing their cores together, and pulling back slowly.

Her eyes shone up at his incredulously, "Come on then," she breathed out, before harshly grabbing him by the nape of his neck, and colliding their lips once more.

"I call dibs on the remote. For eternity," she muffled against lips.

"That's fine," he answered harshly, "I reserve the right to your lips, and your skin, and everything that lays beneath your clothe!" He said leaving small kisses on her entire face.

"Okay," she sighed.

"You'll allow it?"

"I'll allow it,"


	13. A Puppy Woukd Be Nice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed.
> 
> This was a gift Prompt donated to the Birthday Present Everlark Drabbles on tumblr. 
> 
> The prompt was Everlark getting a puppy.

**A Puppy** **would be nice**

Rated: G

Prompt: _Everlark getting a puppy,_ For the birthday gifts.

 

* * *

 

 

Peeta never asks for anything, he never wants for anything- Or so he insists- but is a wife's job to read between the lines, heaven knows that's what he does for me on a regular basis. I just wanted to give him something nice in return for all the wonderful things he does for me, so the moment I saw an opportunity to give him what he secretly wanted, I jumped at it, and didn't let go until I saw it through!

Everything started with a stupid magazine quiz he picked up at the dentist's office; it was silly, really; something lighthearted to pass the time while we waited for our back-to-back appointments:

"What kind of Dog are You?" He read out loud amusedly.

"Oh, that's easy! Bloodhound for sure!" I say leafing through a copy of National Geographic dated almost a year prior.

"I don't know... You're usually more scary than bloodhounds. How about a mutt? The scary kind, with fangs and claws that could rip you apart?" He snickers when I smack him with my rolled up NatGeo.

Peeta simply laughs harder, cowering into his stif chair while I glare at him, flashing him a mighty scowl. After he starts throwing air kisses at me, blinking rapidly with puppy-dog-eyes, I have to hide my face behind my magazine so he can't see my reluctant smile... I hate not being able to stay mad at him for long.

He had the good sense to pretend he didn't noticed my loosening mood, instead he proceeded to read the steps and questions of the quiz aloud; in all honesty, I did have a lot of fun answering the silly questions, until it was time to tabulate our results to find out 'what kind of dog we were'. As it turns out, I ended up being an American Pit Bull - I thought I would've rate some kind of hound, something useful during a hunt- Peeta thought the description was dead on for some reason: strong willed, loyal, stubborn, courageous, intelligent, affectionate to it's masters... Didn't see the resemblance whatsoever!

He on the other hand was slated as a West Highland White Terrier, a smallish dog, hairy and cute, described as alert, friendly, courageous, hardy, active and independent... It suited him, and he was delighted googling up pictures of the breed on his phone, until the receptionist called up his name, and he was squirreled away to his cleaning.

That night, after supper was cleaned up and we were sitting cozily in our couch - my feet on his lap, while he massaged my toes and soles- he sighed deeply into the comfortably quiet room, "A puppy would be nice," he said wistfully.

I looked up at him in confusion and surprise, from my stolen National Geographic article about the game reserves in the Serengeti.

Once the novelty of the game we were playing had passed, I hadn't given it another thought, but Peeta was still clearly hung up on the whole dog thing.

"I don't know," I say dubiously, "a puppy is a lot of work." I say more firmly, returning to my reading material.

"I consider myself old enough to be trusted with the responsibility of raising a puppy," he says amusedly.

I chance him a glance, to see how serious he is. There's a flicker of honest-to-God plea in his eyes, but it's gone almost instantly.

"I really don't know, Peeta," I start, feeling like I'm about to crush a little boy's dream, "You know I'm not a pet person, and having a pet makes things considerably more difficult, we have a lot of freedoms now, that will go down the drain once we bring an animal, totally dependent on us, to live in the house," this is only partially true, and conceals a much bigger reason behind my hesitancy than a mere dog inconveniencing my freedom to come and go as I please.

Children talk is taboo in our home, but I know how badly he wanted them, but he loves me so much, he's never, ever ask for them, or press the issue in any way. His devotion to me, has no limits sometimes. Unlike any other man would in his position, he's never demanded children; in fact he's always hinted that he's fine just the two of us. I'm incredibly grateful for his respect towards my complicated baggage... it's not that I dislike children, on the contrary, I adore children... I'm just scared to death I'd fail them as a parent. I'm scared to love them, and then have them snatched away from me like my father, and my sister, and to some extent, my absent with grief mother as well... Call it the tragedies of life. The topic remains not discussed, and undisturbed.

I continue giving him reasons why a dog wouldn't work for us, in a frantic state, "We'll have to get a vet, and dog sitters, and we'll have to get on a walking schedule, and plan trips to the dog park, and get dog food and accessories... It's a lot of money when you think of it..."

"Katniss! I was just kidding! Geez, calm down, there Dark Cloud," he says stretching across the couch to grab my hand playfully, pulling me towards him, until I'm flushed against the length of his body. "I don't really need a dog. I'm happy with our little family as it is, just the two of us!" He says kissing my forehead.

"Okay," I say trying to not sound too relieved.

I know exactly what he's telling me. I know he just read my fears like an opened book, and as usual, he gave me an out.

Fact in point is, I've done for him- with him- many things I promised myself I would never do, the main, and most telling one, being marriage.

I never wanted to marry, he promised he'd never proposed to me, yet, here I am, laying on top of my 'husband's' chest, while he lazily plays with my hair ends. Getting married was my idea, I drove us to a little chapel up in the mountains, we eloped right then and there, entirely skipping the engagement step, and plunging into our life together as husband and wife, both first first and eyes wide open.

The truth is, I'm happy. I never thought I'd be happy, but he's changed my mind about marriage, and given me reason to trust his love, companionship and loyalty. In reality, I really didn't stand a chance, trying to resist the pull he has on me - and hell did I resist, with all my might at the beginning - but his constancy, patience and goodness took me by surprise, he sprouted firm roots, right in the middle of my heart, tearing all those protective walls with his kindness and hope.

What's to say he won't managed to change my mind about my other big fear?

The problem is, that changing my mind for him, because of his innate goodness, it's not so far out of the question. Prove of point is, that right this second, I'm holding a dog carrier cage in one hand, while luging a doggy bed and a very heavy Pet Smart bag in the other.

"Peeta!" I call out loudly, stepping into the door.

"Yeah," he says from the kitchen, where I knew he'd be. He's making his way to meet me in the living room, and his expression of surprise and puzzlement is reward enough for me right now.

"What's all this?" He asks, blue eyes going wide as his gaze flies from my face to each of my hands, to the doggy bed under my arm.

I chuckle nervously. "Um... You remember when you mention how cool having a puppy would be?"

"And... You just went and got one without even telling me?" He asks in mock accusation.

"Well... It's just... He looked so sad at the animal shelter, like he needed me, and... Look!" I toss the stuff I'm holding all over the floor, and hurry to get the puppy out of the cage to show Peeta exactly what I'm talking about, "How could you say no to this face? How you walk away from this big ol' eyes?" I say pouting, bringing the tiny dog up to press his face to my cheek.

Peeta looks at the dog with furrowed brows, then he looks at me, his eyes tell me he doesn't even know where to begin. I'm starting to second guess my impulsiveness, when he finally laughs and takes the dog from my hands.

"Katniss, this pitiful thing... Are you sure he's a dog, not a rat?"

I slap his arm, "Do not insult Roberto!" I chide him.

"Roberto?" He returns amusedly.

"Well... He's mexican isn't he? He needs a Spanish name!" I say crossing my arms over my chest.

"Okay..." He says chuckling lightly, "He does look like a Roberto. Although I'm pretty sure he's the runt of the liter," he says pensively, moving the puppy from side to side, studying it. "I see the appeal," he comments softly, gently scratching the shivery, tiny head of the dog with his index finger.

Roberto whimpers a bit, and with that, I know he's completely conquered Peeta's heart!

Peeta beams at me, hugging the dog close to his heart, "He's perfect! I love him!" He takes a shirt step into me, and kisses me sweetly, "thank you," he whispers against my lips.

"You're welcome, I guess. Just remember, you're potty training him!"

We both laugh with the dog squirming between our bodies, "You won't regret it!" He says excitedly, like a child who's been given... Well, a new puppy!

"Welcome home Roberto," He tells the dog, nuzzling close to his pointy ear, "Just between you and me, though, don't let Katniss fool you, she scowls a lot, but she's a big softy for small things that need be taken care off on the inside,"

"I heard that!" I say chuckling, as I stoop down to gather the bags filled with dog necessities.

I know I will regret giving into the whole dog adoption. That's a given. Surprisingly, I'm alright with it, because the more I look at Peeta, and see how adorable my husband is with the teacup size, under weight, scrawny looking chihuahua pup, I can't help to think that Roberto needs a pint size Peeta to play with, I'm starting to think, "A _baby_ would be nice!"


	14. Perfectly Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed.
> 
> Written for D12D on tumblr, prompt: **Children** , which I of course translate into Toastbabies :)

**Perfectly Right**

_Rated:_ G

 _Disclaimer:_ THG Characters not mine.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

The girl with blue eyes and dark hair, could so easily be my double at her age; except, her skin is as pale as her father's and her smile is all his as well. No scowls for that one! She has no reason to scowl anyway, and even if she did, she's all Peeta, down to the fondness for paint and flour creations; there's barely any Katniss in her, at least in temperament. That's not to say she doesn't have a temper when she's poked the wrong way.

"She's a Mellark" Peeta says, some times with blinding pride, sometimes not so much; he spends time with the girl, specially now that she's ten, teaching her how to channel anger and ire, so it's not an all destructing force.

"Anger runs in her veins," Peeta says shaking his head, the words come laced with shame and sorrow. "We have to teach her she has control over her emotions from an early age, then when she's old, she can still be herself, and not a _witch_ like her granny, or a monster like her old man."

"You're not a monster," I kiss his cheek reassuringly. "Your rage filled explosions were not your fault. Not even the ones before..." I don't finish the sentence, we both know what comes next: before they turned you into a mutt version of yourself.

He nods, and says, "Even in the Tour, I should've handled that better. I'm still sorry I yelled at you then," Then we kiss, and let the memory drop. We know the past is behind us, not reason to dwell on it.

Now, the boy with the gray eyes, blonde curls and my hue of skin tone, is only a little leaner than his father was at age seven. Only just a little, though. One can already discern the stocky Mellark frame and wide shoulders his body will have come his teenaged years.

The boy, is more Everdeen though, at least partly. He reminds me of myself before I was left fatherless and weighed down with the responsibility of running a family. The boy sings, the boy swims, the boy hunts just like me, he's so light -oh so light- on his feet, not even _I_ can hear his steps.

"The girl hunts too, and she's quiet as a mouse!" Peeta protests when I brag about the boy's prowess with a bow. "She's got your huntress gait, and can skin and field dress a rabbit better than the anyone!"

"I'm not saying she's not good at it, but the truth is, the girl will rather experiment with your dyes, than spend her days in the woods," after a moment of a stalemate stare, I shrug and say, "The boy is a charmer. He's got your wit, he's got your looks. He's got that quick way with words, and that, my love... It's all you!"

Peeta concedes, poorly hiding a pleased smirk, "We're even then," he says quietly.

"It's not a competition," I snap. "They are both ours, both our best parts, just as simple as that!" I scowl, he laughs. Then tugs me into his arms, and I accept his self satisfied grinning kiss.

After a moment, he turns his eyes to our children who sit by the hearth, reading my old family plant book.

"We will teach them about healing plants," he says with resolve, "They will be verse in bringing life and hope to others in our stead."

I agree with it. I may not be proficient like Prim was, but I know enough about my mother's way.

Peeta is right, of course. We'll teach our children to bring joy and peace, where we brought war and death.

"They are our saving grace," He murmurs. "Two things with did, just perfectly right."


	15. Dialysis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated: T  
> Written for D12D on tumblr, prompt: **Hope**
> 
>  **Warnings** : illness themes, allusions of grief. Allusions to war and loss of limbs. Slightly OOC. Could be age gap (maybe) may write a follow up.  
> Synopsis: You're hope, you were needed. Thank you! 

_Match found._

The words bounce in my brain, skating up and down, twisting in mid air, then crashing on the floor like a wave breaking into myst that bathes and soaks every recess of my mind.

"Match found"

I swash the words in my mouth, savoring their feel, their weight, their meaning.

 _Match found_.

It all becomes clear suddenly. The numbing cloud lifting, leaving a sense of elation that I fight hard to squash down before someone else has a chance to do it for me, by yanking the words, recanting the blessing they mean.

"You said you found a match of Prim?" I ask Doctor Aurelius cautiously, as if he was a sleeping dog I'm trying to pass by without waking.

"Yes. You heard correctly, Katniss." He says with the familiarity only a doctor has with the older sister of a patient that has been under his care for far too long.

"Well... when's the surgery?" I demand rashly.

I know how this things work.

A patient stays in the list for long time until an organ becomes available, and the organ usually has to be flown in from some crazy place on the other side of the country, and everything becomes a rush against time, so the tissues don't decompose. It's a mad dash, and I have my running shoes on, for whenever the good doctor says run!

"It won't happen for a couple of weeks," he says ruffling through some papers.

"What do you mean?" I ask confusedly.

I get angry instantaneously when instead of getting an answer, he hums lost in thought. Doctor Aurelius is an amazing physician, brilliant, but he tends to loose his train of thought while dealing with the families. It's a wonder he's not as scattered brain while he's tending his patients.

I slam my hand on his desk to get his attention, right as he's plucking a piece of paper from a mountain of other documents.

He only glares at me for a moment- he's already used to my outbursts- before he clears his throat, and lowers his gaze to his document.

"Patience is a virtue, Katniss. You will do well to exercise it, since we are working with a live donor here. We can't very well cut up a person and take his organs without direction or planing." He sits back in his chair, passing the document for me to read.

"The donor has already agreed to enter a rigorous conditioning routine, in preparation for the transplant."

"Okay. Who's this donor, and why donate to Prim? What's the catch?"

"Donor wishes to remain anonymous. As for the 'catch', there doesn't seem to be any that I can think of. It's just a person trying to be charitable with humanity, I guess."

I bristle at the word 'charitable'. I don't do charities. I can't stand owing others, it goes against my nature to be on someone's debt.

"There's always a catch! There's always a price for everything..."

"Katniss," Doctor Aurelius rises a hand to stop my rant mid sentence, "Just read the letter. Take some time to mull it over. Let it sink in, then we will talk about the procedure. I will go ahead and get the donor ready for the transplant," I'm about to protest, to fight this over, when he delivers the his last ammo against me, "This is a once in a life opportunity for Primrose, Katniss. If we let it pass us by, we don't know if we'll get another kidney. Your sister would have to endure dialysis for the rest of her life, however long her body can take it."

I clamp my mouth shut. There's nothing else to say. The doctor is right, and I will go with this offer, even if I don't know who the donor is.

I leave Dr. Aurelius' office lost in thought.

Both my mother and father passed away years ago from unrelated circumstances. Me and my sister Prim were left orphaned just as I turned eighteen- which was good, since I retained custody of my baby sister- and although times were hard and slim, the joy and good nature of Prim made it all bearable.

Now she's suffering a debilitating renal failure, and there's no telling if she'll ever get better.

I refuse to lose her too.

I sit in a bench, outside the hospital I just left, to read the letter the donor wrote to the recipient of his kidney, and her family. It starts out quite simple.

The donor is male, I gather for little hints here and there. He's travelled the world, and seen too much sadness in it. Then some life altering event happened in his life, changing him forever, but he received unmeasurable help from someone, and now he wants to give back any way he can, and he knows kids, are the ones who deserve to live so when they grow up, they can change the world.

Slowly, I fold the letter back into envelope size, slipping it into my bag. I stay in the bench, looking at nothing in particular, not even thinking on the contents of the letter.

Prim and I are only four years apart. She's sixteen, but to me, she's still that seven year old ball of energy that followed me around after father past away, or the fourteen year old girl who mastered Mac & cheese like a pro, so I could eat dinner before rushing to my second job every evening.

Yes!

I agree with this guy. Children like Prim are the ones who deserve to grow up into adults, so they can change the world. They should be left innocent and untouched by war and famine, so something good can be left from our messed up society.

I'm just thinking this over, when someone plops heavily on the bench adjacent to mine, making it groan in protest.

Having been disturbed from my deep thoughts, I lift annoyed eyes to glare at the person with obnoxious timing, only to meet the bluest, sweetest, most apologetic eyes I've ever seen. The color is so deep and rich, it makes the sky look dull in comparison.

"Sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to startle you or interrupt your singing. It was just..." The guy speaking shakes his head chock full of ashy blond curls, as if dispelling a thought, before smiling sheepishly at me, "I'm sorry. I just need to sit for a spell, then I'll be on my way. I need to rest my bad knee. I'll be gone soon."

I'm confused at the man's words, I can't make sense of what he's said, so I ask stupidly, "What d'you mean interrupt my singing?" For the love of all that's good on this earth, I have no idea why did I asked that question.

"Oh," he says blushing, "It's just that, you were singing. Something about a meadow. Your voice was soothing, and the picture you painted with it was so pretty... I don't mean to frighten you, but, there isn't a whole lot of beauty in the world, so when I see or hear something worth seeing or hearing, well... I stop to do it. My leg was paining me too much, otherwise, I would've sit down much quietly. I apologize again." He says looking away.

I'm not sure what to say to that. I'm extremely confused by everything that's just happened, and although somewhere in the back of my mind some warning bell should be ringing like crazy, telling me to be creeped out and run away stat, I only sit there. Watching the man.

"Why is your leg hurting?" I ask like an idiot. My brain catching up with my mouth at the last minute, I backpedal, "Sorry. You don't have to answer that. It's none of my business, and I'm being super rude. Sorry," I rush.

"No, no. It's fine." He smiles, "I was being rude too, so now we're even!" He says cheerfully. "Let me... Introduce myself, then we can pretend this didn't start so backwards. I'm Peeta Mellark. Iraq veteran. I lost my leg in an explosion, and now I have this monstrosity here, to help me walk," he says pulling the hem of his blue jeans up about five inches high, showing me a chunk of plastic and metal were flesh should be.

"Sorry for your loss," I say lamely, internally rolling my eyes and screaming at my stupidity.

' _Sorry for your loss?'_ What a shitty thing to say to a war veteran that probably lost more than a piece of his body there!

I know my face is gotta be beet red; I can feel the heat of embarrassment burning my cheeks and ears. But instead of looking offended, he smiles benignly, as if I've just said the right thing.

"Thank you," he says softly.

We don't speak for a while, both of us staring into space in front of us, and then he breaks the silence, "What was the name of the song you were singing, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Oh," I thinking for a moment. "Well, you know... I'm not sure how it's called. It's an old lullaby my father used to sing to me and my sister when we were little. But, he died a long time ago, and now I sing it to my sister when she feels down or under the weather," I say easily. It's stranger talking to this Peeta Mellark person, I don't feel weird at all telling him about our little family rituals.

"That's nice," he says, quickly adding, "I'm sorry for your loss as well,"

"Thanks," I say, bringing back another spell of silence. It's me breaking it this time.

"My name's Katniss, by the way. Katniss Everdeen,"

"Nice to meet you, Katniss," he says with a smile, reaching a hand to shake mine.

His is large, warm and calloused. A little worn and rough, as if he worked hard with them. I wonder what his occupation is, now that he's home. He looks too well and put together to be one more statistic of our returning veterans. The ones we as a country have failed to welcome back and take care of, as they took care of us overseas.

"So, what do you do for a living, mister Mellark?" I ask before I can stop myself. I'm about to apologize again, for once more shoving my foot in my big mouth, but he laughs.

"Call me Peeta," he says shaking his head ruefully, "Mister Mellark is my dad, and I'm no way near as old as he is!"

"Um... I didn't want to be impolite," I say lowering my eyes. But now I'm wondering how he is, he can't be too old, but he's not twenty like I am. This time I bite my tongue before the words have a chance to form on it.

"I'm a baker," he says with pride.

I lift my eyes to find his smile bright and full.

"Well... It's actually my father's bakery, but he retired about a year ago, and I took over. It's good, honest, relaxing work. I enjoy it!" He says not looking at me, but ahead of him, as if observing his life and being content. "How about you?" He asks.

"Uh. I'm a waitress in a diner, and I also work in my friends clothing boutique,"

"Do you enjoy your jobs?" He asks without judging.

"Yes," I say automatically, "Actually, I enjoy working at Cinna's better than at Greasy Sae's, although the latter has better tips, but the former I do to take home chic clothes for my sister to wear at a decent price," I say honestly, looking at him straight in the eyes.

"That's good," he says, "It's good when you like what you do. As I said, there's too much sorrow in the world. We should teach kids to see beauty in everything, so they can grow up to be better people than us,"

His words catch my attention. They sound familiar somehow.

"How do you know my sister is a kid?" I ask suspiciously.

"I didn't," he answered shrugging, "Not until you just confirm it. I had a hunch, since you said you sing to her when she doesn't feel good, and you get chic clothing for her, and not for yourself. Most girls would think of getting rewards for themselves, unless they have a younger person to look after," he grows silent, sad.

"I hope your sister is not there," he points at the hospital behind us.

"She... She isn't," I say, because she's not. Prim comes in for treatment more often than any kid her age should be at a hospital, but she's not an inpatient... 'Yet' my mind adds bitterly.

"Good." He says quietly. Rubbing his forehead he lowers his voice as he says, "I started coming here to donate cookies and pastries, following my dad's tradition. I fell in love with some of the kids I met. So I decided to find out if there was anything I could do to help," he says softly. "I started volunteering to paint with the little ones, I wanted to be an artist when I was younger, but then I found out I wanted to serve my country more, but I still have some painting skill in me. The kids loved it.

"Then I started to donate toys and stuff like that. And then one of the kids that was always around didn't show up to painting lesson, I asked about him, and the nurse said he had passed on. It hit me hard. I've always heard about donating organs. Did you know your kidneys can be harvested while you're still alive? Your marrow as well? Skin, blood... I'm here because I was recently informed, they match me with two people, one in another State and one here. The one here is a child. Kind of made the choice easier. I mean I feel terrible I can't give away everything to both people, but I know at least this kid is still on time to make a big impact in our world,"

My breath hitches at that. My eyes begin to water. Could he be the one? Is he telling me this because he wants me to know this is him? The person I will owe the biggest debt in my life?

"Do... Do you know the recipient of your organ?" My voice sounds raspy and foreign to me.

He shakes his head slowly. "Nah. I asked to be kept anonymous, and that means I don't get to meet the recipient or the family." He goes quiet for beat, "It's okay really. I don't need to meet them, as long is I know I did something to help them live a better fuller life,"

"And... You won't feel like they owe you something for this gift? Donating is such a big thing?" I ask trying to hold back my tears.

He sighs, "The day I lost my leg, I lost my whole squad. My best friend was there. He died to save me. His wife was pregnant. He never met his son. After I came to in a hospital all the way across the world, I kept asking myself why was I spared, and him taken, when nobody needed me! Him? He was gonna be a father, and a good one at that. He was needed, not me! He was the best person I knew.

"I was in a very dark place those days. Not myself at all, and then I met other survivors, and became aware of how they felt, that I wasn't alone in my self pity. That's when I met my head doctor, he's confrontational, grouchy, leans too much on white liquor, but oh-my-word, does he make you get perspective! I figure,d pretty quick, that the best way to make my friend's death worth it, was to view it as a gift, and that if I payed it forward, Finnick's sacrifice would keep on giving life. Would keep on spreading. And that is all I want to do with my life, spreading the good things, to try and at least counter some of the bad."

I'm overwhelmed by his words. By his goodness. This man that owes nobody anything more, that's made his own sacrifice, is willing to give even more of his body for those who need protecting and helping.

_I can't sit here any longer!_

I know it's rude, but I get up abruptly. I can't help it, my heart is aching in my chest; I look everywhere but directly at him, trying to fish out parting words that refuse to come. What can say to this man, that will even begun to cover the wonderful thing he's doing for a beautiful girl, that deserves to live and become a doctor as she's always dreamed, so she can be the one saving lives?

In my desperation, my eyes land on an unassuming yellow flower. A weed. There are hundreds of its siblings scattered about the patch grass in front of me, but the one I'm looking at is particularly especial. It's growing from a crack in the hard pavement of the sidewalk, where it was unlikely to see any life springing from.

I don't think about, I don't reason with the impulse. I dive to it and pluck it stem, leaves, roots and all.

I turn to look at him.

He's watching me with this confused, sad eyes.

Holding the bloom tightly in my hand, I walk toward him until I'm standing in front of him, and he has to look up at me.

"Thank you!" I say shoving the plant practically in his face.

He reaches a hesitant hand to it, startled by my actions. I realize I must look like a crazy person to him, so I try to explain as best as I can.

"Dandelions are considered pesky weeds by almost everyone in the world. They grow in the most annoying places like little sneaks. But in reality, dandelions are pretty cool plants." I pause to take a quick breath so I can keep my barrage of dandelion related facts and trivia on the poor guy, "you see, dandelions are edible, all of it: the flower, the stem, the leaves, and then when they seed they go far to unexpected places, biding their time to grow, like this one, in tiny cracks where nothing else will grow. They're pretty much the first ones to break through the dirt, proud yellow heads emulating the sun, signaling spring has come to warm us. And they're also pretty and happy flowers... Dandelions are hopeful.

"My sister has to come for dialysis periodically for year and a half. She's sixteen, and full of dreams. I know every nurse in the oncology floor. Me and her primary physician are so tight, we're on a first name and insults basis now. But today... today I came here, dreading my meeting with my sister's doctor, I had so many fears. So many questions, I couldn't figure out what motivations moved people, and then you sat next to me, and started sharing about yourself, and..." I stop abruptly.

I have to blow my nose and dry my embarrassing tears, but I'll have time to obsess about that later. I have to make sense or I'll never get my meaning across.

I take a calming breath, and say ignoring the quiver in my lips. "You're a dandelion! You came from the crack in the harsh pavement, bright yellow as a ray of sun. And you were needed. You were so needed it's not even funny! You will give a piece of you to a kid that deserves to have a better life. You're hope in a dreary day, and I thank you for what you're doing,"

I've left him speechless, and I'm completely drained after my word vomit.

"There's only one think I believe it's stupid, and you should change it," I say with a raw voice.

"What's that?" He chokes out seemingly touched by my outburst.

"You should meet my sister," I say, not caring that I just broke his anonymity request. "I think you'd should see how your investment is faring every now and then. I think you'd be proud of the person you helped."

This time his breath catches, but I don't stick around to see the rest of his reaction; I run out of there as fast as I can, because I've done the stupidest thing I could do already, I cried, and I can't wait another minute to do as he's doing, and go spread a little bit of goodness in the world... a little bit of hope, while you pay it forward without expecting a reward.


	16. *My very first Tumblr drabble*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was my very first published drabble on tumblr! It came to be after I saw an anon Ask with this prompt to loving-mellark... 
> 
>  
> 
> _Anonymous said:_  
>  _I called you because I was curious and wow you have a very soothing voice can you please sing me to sleep’ AU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Everlark perfection_
> 
>  
> 
> Loving-Mellark is an amazing artist, but she declined the prompt, citing she creates fan art, but finds inspiration for her work on fanfiction, leaving the prompt up for grabs.
> 
> I figured, "why the heck not!?!?!" I truly hope the anon was pleased with the end result. I am very happy L-M seemed to enjoy it, thank you for being so generous Any! 
> 
> I'm glad I took the chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware, this drabble hasn't been revised, altered or betaed since its original posting. 
> 
> Character's slightly OOC, and Im duly aware, there are glaring plot holes in this tiny story... Believe me, in my head, it all has explanations that make total sense. Still, I hope everyone enjoys it!

He’s become an insomniac, nothing he does works, he really can’t just shut down and go to sleep anymore. He had tried the sleeping pills, therapy and even hypnosis. The longest he has managed to rest with them is a few hours.

The resulting PTSD from his last tour in the “Sandbox” where he lost his leg should had been reason enough to keep him from sleeping, with all the nightmares that wake him screaming and panting and cover in sweat, but all the stress of his father’s illness and passing, and then taking over the business, was what broke the very thin thread that kept his mind sound, there’s a natural fears that springs from moving back into the house he barely escaped from by joining the army after all those years of child abuse by his own mother’s hands… He’s exhausted, and he knows he can’t keep on going like that.

His head doctor recommended him to do soothing stuff, to calm his nerves and frayed mind, and he does that for the most part, he keeps his iPod on with easy listening music, his brother got him a white-noise maker that supposes to help, but he didn’t even bother trying it out. His best friend Finn asked him when was the last time he got laid, he theorizes a “good lay” should fix his problem, but thinking about pursuing women for physical gratification brings a new host of fears to forefront of his mind, he’s a disgusting cripple after all, he’s got no business trying to get into a lady’s pants that way, plus he doubts he would be able to handle the rejection and mockery. No… Sex with a real person won’t do.

But, this is another night in which he didn’t even wasted time go into his bedroom, attempting to lay in bed awake for endless hours; no, tonight he just sits in his kitchen, at his tiny breakfast table, reading yesterday’s paper, when he comes across a curious add:

 

_Trouble sleeping?_

_It’s alright! Our girls are awake too!_

_Calls us now, 555-GRL-FIRE we guaranty you a pleasant time, and even better dreams!_

_Surges and other charges may apply. Must be 18 to call._

He hesitates for a moment, toying with the idea; Finn is right, he hasn’t had a released in so long he can’t even remember when was the last time. He hasn’t even helped himself in weeks, and the prospect of talking to an actual person is tempting. He’s desperate for sleep enough to try it… The advert did promised a pleasant time!

He picks up his cellphone from the iHome dock, killing the notes of the classic music that was playing on his iPod, and without thinking much about dialed the number listed in the add.

The artificial voice of an answering machine answers the call:

“ _You have called Girl on Fire Services, we supply with live chat over the phone with beautiful ladies, that will strive to indulge you in your wildest fantasies. Charges of up to $5 the first minute will apply directly to your telephone company and reflected on your next bill. This call will be monitored and it might be recorded for security reasons, your phone number and information, although protected under our privacy agreement, will remain in our records for up to thirty days, after which will be discarded. If you accept this terms and conditions, please remain on the line and you’ll be transfer to our first available operator, you must be eighteen or older to continue this call. Thank you for choosing Girl On Fire, we are here to please you!_ ”

He’s about to hang up, all the reasons why he shouldn’t have call fill his mind, this was a silly idea to begging with and now his number will be saved in some seedy sex line thing, what if he gets in some kind of legal trouble for this? But before he can do anything, he’s stopped by the sound of the sweetest, most melodious voice he’s ever heard.

“Welcome to Girl on Fire, this is Dandelion speaking… How are you tonight?”

“H-hi, um… I’m alright I guess.”

“Awesome! So how can I help you tonight sweetie?”

He sighs heavily, and shakes his head as he speaks. “Look… This was a bad idea, I don’t know what I’m doing… I know you must get paid for calls answered and I truly don’t wanna waste your time. You sound sweet and everything, and appreciate you even taking my call, but I think I’m just gonna go…”

“Hey… Wait… Don’t go, let’s just have a chat for a moment, you are not wasting my time I promise. I would love to help you unwind in any way I can,” Her voice is so nice, soft like silk, but he senses a tinge of urgency in her plead for him to stay on the line, so inexplicably, he acquiesces.

“Ok… I guess I could use a chat… I just don’t know how to go about this… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Why don’t we start with something easy?”

“Like what?”

“Uh… What’s you favorite color?” She sounds a bit sheepish, then she laughs this musical noise, “I’m sorry… I’m awful at small talk, which is ironic giving my line of work”

“No… it’s fine… I suck at small talk too!” He chuckles, her laugh is enchanting, he thinks he could stay on the phone for hours if she laughs like that again. “My favorite color is orange, but not bright orange, more like the hue you see in the sky when the sun is setting… That kind of soft orange.”

“Oh wow, that’s nice… Very poetic!”

He chuckles, “Sure… So… What’s yours… Your favorite color?”

“Green… Like forest green.” Pause. Another laugh from her, this one sounds nervous. “I’m sorry, I wish I could conjure up an image as nice as the one you just did a moment ago when describing sunset orange… I truly am awful at this…” More laughter, “But, I like the way you talk, you sound like you are some kind of writer, poet or some type of artist, you definitely have a way with words, It’s nice!”

“Oh… Um, no, I’m actually an Afghanistan Veteran, turned baker… The only art I do is with frosting, and I am not that great with words, I just ramble mostly, it’s just lucky my thoughts are magically coherent!” He says with a small laugh.

“Well, you could have fooled me! Of course, I don’t know that many veterans… You sound young, though… When you say ‘veteran’ my mind goes to old grandpa type men, but you don’t strike me as old.”

“Um, no… I’m 28… You?”

She laughs loudly, fully. “You won’t believe this, and I’m not saying it because you just did but I’m 28 as well!”

“Really? When is your birthday?”

“May 8th, I was born in 87.” She says and he can hear the smile in her voice.

“That’s awesome, I was born in 87 too!”

“So, when did you joined the military, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Summer of 2005, fresh out of high school”

“Oh wow… Your parents most be proud of you” she says with true admiration in her voice.

“Actually, no, they really aren’t. Well, my dad was… But he died just five months ago, and my mother…” He sighs and stops talking altogether.

“I’m sorry” says the girl on fire after a long pause. “I know how it feels to lose a parent. But… If it means anything… I appreciate your sacrifice to our country. Thank you for help keeping us safe, really.”

“You’re welcome, I suppose. I didn’t really join the army with the noble intention of keeping our country safe, but… After being there, and meeting the people I did, the ones that truly believed in America and sacrificed for our grater good… That’s when everything came into perspective. Yeah, I guess serving my country is about the only good thing I’ve ever done.”

“Well… You are very brave, not everyone has the guts to go out there and face war, whatever your reasons might’ve been then. You did it, and now you’re here. I wish I had have the opportunity of doing what you did… Go on and sign up into the service, but I just couldn’t risked being deployed, I’m needed here.”

“Yeah, I guess. But, I think is better you didn’t joined, war ain’t very pretty. So, forgive me if I’m too forward and know you don’t to have to answer but, I’m just curious… What drove you to work in this line of business? I don’t mean to pry or offend you… It’s just… You know what? Forget it… That was stupid.”

“Oh no! It’s not stupid… Actually after hearing you share so much of yourself with me, I think it’s ok… Um… It’s a very long story, but, I inherited certain responsibilities from my parents, and I’ve been working ever since I was very young. I didn’t finish school when I was a teenager, I struggled with getting a GED and now I’m doing some college online, this was meant to be supplemental help for my finances… I mean I don’t have to get naked or anything, just talk dirty and my job is done.” she laughs at that, and he feels his cheeks warm up.

“So… Um… Are you good at it? At dirty talk, I mean…”

Another laugh. “I’m ok. There are some girls that are excellent at it, and can get their callers off their rockers in no time… Me… I like this kind of conversation better.” She says and once more he thinks he can hear her smile. He actually liked it too.

“So… I’m going out on a limb here and assume, ‘Dandelion’ is not your real name? Is there any chance I could get your real name?” He can’t hide the hopefulness in his voice, she doesn’t answer right away, but when she does, she sounds sorry.

“Your guess is right, but for security and privacy reasons, I’m not allowed to give out my personal information… I’m so sorry.”

“No… That’s fine… Look, what are the chances that if I call back I get you again?”

“I would say slim to none… We have about fifty other operators just in this shift, chances are we will never talk again.” She sounds almost regretful as she speaks.

“Ok… So… This might sound weird to you, but I have a request…”

“Oh… No problem, nothing you want me to say or do will be weird” but he senses her disappointment in the change of her voice tone.

“Oh, uh… Right… This isn’t anything sexual or anything… Well, at first it was, at first I just wanted to talk to someone who could encourage me to, you know… get me off so I could go to sleep. But… After talking to you, I think I don’t really need the gratification. You have a very soothing voice, you know, very sweet… Um… Will it be weird if I asked you to… Um… sing for me? I just haven’t slept in days, and well, I think I might just be relaxed enough to go to sleep just listening to your voice.”

There is a pregnant silence for a while, he’s starting to panic thinking that call dropped or that she hanged up on him for wasting her time, he brings the phone up to his face so he can see that the call is indeed still running, he brings it back to his ear,

“Um, Dandelion? Are you still there?” He asks frantically.

“Yes, sorry… I’m still here, yes. Um… I haven’t… I haven’t sang for anyone other than my sister when she was little, and that was years ago… I-I guess- I guess it’ll be alright to sing for you… Um… Just, lay down comfortably and let me know when you’re ready.”

He doesn’t lose any time, he plops down on his couch and breathes deeply, he fixes the cushions into a more comfortable position, and then says breathlessly into the phone.

“Ready!”

“Ok… So, this is a song I used to sing to my sister when she had nightmares, I hope it helps you, ok?” She takes a deep breath, and then her silky voice turns to smooth caramel,

“Deep in the meadow, Under the Willow, A bed of grass, a soft green pillow…”

She starts out soft, but the more she sings the stronger her voice sounds, and he can’t believe his ears, she’s amazing, his eyelids are so heavy, but he doesn’t want to close his eyes, he’s afraid he will lose her, and he has no idea who she is, but there is a pretty good chance his heart will never recuperate from this. How can someone be a goner solely with the sound of a voice? he doesn’t even know her real name… And shit! he never told her his. So he sits up abruptly, to tell her his name and to look him up on Facebook or something… His name is unique enough, he doubts she’ll have any trouble finding the right Peeta Mellark, but, to his horror, there’s sunlight filtering through his curtains, this only means that he fell asleep after all and he will never hear from the girl on fire with the Angel voice ever again.

He finally let’s his head fall into his hands and rubs harsh circles over his eyes with the heel of his hands. How could his body betray him like this, finding sleep when he actually needed to stay awake? It’s a moot point. It’s not like she was interested in him or anything. Plus he’s a cripple! She would probably be disgusted with him anyways. He looks at the screen of his phone to discover he can make it to work if he takes a three minute shower and forgoes breakfast. He has done it before. So he does it again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s almost closing time, when he hears the little bell over the front door of the bakery, announcing a customer. He’s tired and ready to go back to his empty, lonely home, but he comes from under the counter he was just cleaning, to help whoever just came in.

He’s pleasantly surprised to find a beautiful woman standing behind his counter. She has luscious olive skin and the most striking grey eyes he’s ever seen in his life, she’s fidgeting with the end of the thick, long braid she has her shiny, dark hair in. She looks a bit nervous, her eyes darting quickly to every corner of the bakery. He smiles at her when he speaks,

“Hi! Welcome to Mellark’s, how can help you?” Her eyes finally land on his, and her mouth simply drops open, her hands that had been twisting and twirling the end of her braid fall listlessly to her sides. She’s staring at him like she can’t believe her eyes, and finally lowers her gaze… Is she blushing? If she is, it definitely suits her!

“Umm… Are you Peeta?”

Her voice… It gives him pause, he looks at her with wide eyes, could this be even real? ‘ _Yes! I’m Peeta… Actually I’ll be who ever you want me to be!_ ’ His brain answers for him, but when his voice fails him to make the response to her inquiry audible, he only nods stupidly.

“Good! I… Um. I’m sorry to come here like this, but I took the liberty of looking up your information…” She looks back at him for a moment, but her eyes flit away from his almost as quickly, “I know this isn’t very kosher… looking up your private information and all… and I could lose my job over this but, You asked for my real name, and I thought it was only fair…” She shyly places a dandelion on the counter and quickly takes a step back, folding her hands in front of her.

He looks at the small yellow weed in astonishment, he picks it up and rolls the green stem between his forefinger and thumb, staring at the simple yellow flower, it reminds him of the sun and happy times, he looks back at her, she’s still standing there tensely, biting her lower lip adorably… He’s definitely a goner now! He smiles at her, and she must take it as permission to keep going, because next thing she’s extending her hand in greeting towards him,

“H-hi… My name is Katniss Everdeen, and I suck at small talk!”

“That’s alright… Small talk is overrated, and we already know each other’s favorite colors, although I think I’m starting to become very partial to dandelion yellow…” She laughs at that, and it’s a miracle he’s still capable of speech, “I think we can go straight to discuss the deep stuff.” He says while he still can produce coherent thought. She raises an eyebrow at him, and shyly asks,

“Like what?”

“Um, I don’t know… Coffee or Tea, maybe? I’m partial for tea myself… We can discover what the deep stuff is it over your preferred beverage and cheese buns” he counters,

“I’d like that!” She answers mirroring his face splitting smile. “And… Tea… My hot drink of choice is tea” she says in her soft silky voice.

This could be just the start of something wonderful… Thank heavens for sleepless nights.


	17. Phototherapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompt (Tumblr): "I wish you would write a fic where one half of Everlark discovers a secret about the other half..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Anon, sorry it took me two lifetimes to respond to your ask… I ran into a massive case of writer’s block and then I had a baby, which actually helped get this drabble running.  
> I’m sorry if this isn’t quite what you expected, but hey, the prompt was opened enough

I’m curled up in the armchair of the hospital room I’ve been occupying for the last three days. I’ve been in the same position for about an hour, the fake, green leather of the chair that has seen better days, has made every inch of my skin in direct contact with it, sticky and sweaty.

  
I can’t recall the last time I’ve blinked either; my eyes have watered and dried up again in an endless loop, giving me a headache I’ll be hard pressed to get rid of in days, but my pupils will stay trained in the squirmy bundle, moving in spasmodic twitches until I can look no more. My stomach has long since stopped growling with hunger, finally realizing feeding myself isn’t a priority at the moment.

  
There will be no force on earth that’ll move me from my spot until the blue lights bathing the whole room in its eerie glow, have finally been turned off…

  
“Katniss?”

  
Except for that voice of course.

  
My eyes dart to the open door, and I could cry with relief at the sight of him: stocky built, average height, ashy blond hair that falls in waves messily all over his head, and the most breathtaking blue eyes a guy could ask for. But all I do is stand up so fast I get dizzy. I’m not allowed to seek his comfort and steadiness anymore, and the distrust in his features, painfully reinforces that notion. I robbed myself of the warmth of his arms.

  
“You came!” I squeak nervously while taking a step towards him, I can’t stop my stupid hammering heart from hoping. Even to my ears, the relief is palpable in my voice.

  
“Yeah,” he says in a isn’t-it-obvious tone, “You called me and said–” that’s as far as he gets before choking up and shutting his mouth entirely; he averts those deep blues I’ve missed so much to roam all over the room instead, zeroing in on the spot my eyes had been trained on not a minute ago.

  
“It’s that…?” His usually smooth voice falters, and without waiting for my answer he’s crossed the room in two strides. He’s always been heavy footed, but right now he’s as swift as a gazelle.  
I stand behind him, giving him ample room to look and come to terms with what he’s seeing.

  
“How… um… how is everything…evolving?” He asks unsure, an edge of fear in his voice that makes my heart constrict with guilt and longing.

  
I open my mouth to answer but before the first word can even leave my throat, there’s a soft knock on the still opened door, and in comes the best buffer I could’ve hope for.

  
“Miss Everdeen,” says a tired looking middle aged man, Dr. Aurelius. He’s soft spoken, but I can’t help to appreciate his bedside manners, “I just got the result of Willow’s last bili serum test.” He stops and looks past me. “You must be mr. Mellark, Willow’s father,” he states more than asks.

  
I look behind me, the moment of truth is here even before I expected it and not at all how I’ve planned for it. I’m sure he’d see every emotion playing on my face right now, if only he were looking at me, but his eyes are fixed on the doctor, ignoring my internal warring.

  
He steps forward, shaking Dr. Aurelius’ hand with his usual vigor. “Peeta Mellark, sir. Nice to meet you.”

  
“Ferguson Aurelius, Head Neonatologist of Panem Medical Center. I’ve heard many good things about you, son. I’m glad to finally be able to speak with the both of you about Willow’s prognosis and care plan.”

  
Peeta makes a sound at the back of his throat, I bite my lip in anticipation of what he’ll say next, because although the good doctor has indeed heard all kinds of good things about my baby daddy, Peeta has only learned about my little secret some 20 minutes ago, when I finally grew a spine and called him, after I was faced with the necessity of the blue lights and all the complications jaundice could bring to my three day old daughter.

  
I feel terrible this is what finally pushed me to seek him out and come clean about me having his baby after breaking his heart and walking away from him. Truth be told, when I found out about it, I tried calling him a thousand times, I just didn’t think he’d forgive me for walking out in him, let alone want to raise a child with me.

  
I was just too scared of how quick and hard I had fallen for him. I was scared of how much I needed him to reciprocate that love, and I ran before something could make my fears a reality.

  
I was an idiot.

  
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ve been working at my bakery until just now, I figured coming to the maternity ward covered in flour wasn’t the best idea.” He gives the doctor one of his self deprecating smiles, and continues, “But I came as soon as Katniss called, saying there was a problem with… little Willow.” Peeta chances a glance at me, the way he says our baby’s name, as if savoring it, lets me know he will let me have a piece of his mind soon enough.

  
All I can do is lower my sight to the ground, and listen to the rest of the conversation. I feel my eyes fill with tears. He won’t expose me, won’t let my secret be known, he’s still protecting me, even though I know keeping Willow’s existence from him has hurt him in the worst possible way.

  
“Well, thank you for being considerate to all my patients,” Dr. Aurelius says with some humor himself. Then his tone turns serious, “Are you familiar with Willow’s condition?” He asks.

  
“Familiar enough. I googled some stuff about it, when I got Katniss’ call.”

  
“Very well, then let me be brief: Willow got tested for bilirubin, which is a standard test for newborns with certain tell signs. Her results came back at 13.3. While 13 is not an entirely bad number, and it’s still 2 levels under Jaundice, it would be irresponsible of me to do nothing about it, so with ms. Everdeen’s approval, we started phototherapy as a means to fend off the advance of jaundice. In the standard form of the treatment, your baby will lie in the crib only in her diaper and an eye protective band, while being exposed to a type of fluorescent light that is absorbed by her skin. She’ll be under the lights for 12 hours, that’ll be broken into 3 hour segments, where she can be fed, held and diapered for up to 30 minutes, and then returned to the bassinet and lights.

  
“If her levels keep hiking up, her health could be seriously compromised. I know you were both hoping to take your baby home today, but I’ve decided Willow will benefit from an extra night with us under the lights. Any questions?”

  
“I guess, I’m wondering what caused the condition in the first place? Is there anything we could’ve done to prevent it? What else can we do to help her get better?” Peeta’s steadfast mask crumbles with his many questions, I can’t help but to be captivated by how much care, even love, I detect in his borderline frantic questioning.

  
It feels like being stabbed in the chest, to know he already cares for Willow so much, and he just had a quick glimpse of her in her plastic bassinet, under the fluorescent blue lights that distort her sweet features.

  
Me, I got to carry her inside me for 38 weeks, then after I delivered her, I got to hold her close to my heart, fed her, sing to her, changed her diapers.

  
I love her now, but when I first found out I was expecting her… let’s just say, with my old fears and baggage, it was a different story, but Peeta deserves a child, he has always wanted them so badly, which was one of the reasons I left, breaking his heart in the process. Peeta was born to be a daddy, but I squandered his daughter away from him, even though I was the one who never wanted children until I felt her stirring inside my belly… I can’t imagine how betrayed and angry he must feel.

  
Doctor Aurelius clears his throat, and holds Peeta’s gaze as if weighing him down before answering, but the man floors me with his next words.

  
“Ms. Everdeen has done everything any good parent would’ve done in her place, Mr. Mellark. I hope you know that.” He pauses just for a moment. “Nothing going on with your child’s elevated bilirubin levels is in anyway a reflection of your, or hers, parental skills, or even your competence as caregivers. Jaundice, is in fact very common in newborns and highly treatable. You have done what any responsible parent would, and put your daughter’s wellbeing before your own comfort. The fact that you not only have already chosen a pediatrician for your baby and set up an appointment already- and believe me, that’s more than I can say about most other parents I’ve met in this hospital- the fact that you’ve taken care of her future medical provider, tells me, Willow is in very capable hands. With all this, I want to say, both you, and us, are doing everything we need and can do to help Willow stay healthy.”

  
There’s quiet for a moment, Peeta shifts on his feet and gives a tired chuckle. “I’m afraid I didn’t have anything to do with the choosing of the pediatrician. That was all Katniss, but I trust her judgment when it comes to important things like choosing a doctor for… our baby.” He keeps his eyes stubbornly on his feet.  
“All the same, Mr. Mellark, I’m confident you and Ms. Everdeen will take good care of my patient, once I’ve released her to you, hopefully tomorrow. Until then, please take some rest. Once the baby goes home, sleep will become a commodity you’ll yearn for!” With that last comment and a ragged laugh from me and Peeta, the doctor walks out of the room.

  
A cold, deafening silence falls in thick waves all over us, suffocating at least me. I’m feeling too many awful emotions to look at him, but I feel his eyes burning a hole through my skull.

  
“You’re a piece of work,” he says with contempt.

  
I shouldn’t get defensive, but just like that, all my guilt, fear and longing disappear, inflaming my anger instantly. “You’re no angel either, lying through your teeth,” I throw back, regretting the words immediately.

  
I see the rage gathered in his eyes, a mutt ready to strike, biting my head off. “And not even a bit nice, even after the biggest lie came from you!”

  
“I was never know for being the nice one in this relationship!” I snap. There’s a pregnant silence between us before I say weakly, “You were.” I wrap my arms around my middle and shrink back into the hospital bed. “I’m sorry.”

  
I haven’t really sink completely into the mattress when I find myself engulfed in the warmth of his arms and comfort of his scent: cinnamon and dill, from the breads he must’ve baked today.

  
Oh how I missed this. Oh how much I don’t deserve the comfort, yet how much I crave it. I can’t bring myself to push him away, not now that my stiffened shoulders shake while the ugly sobbing rakes through me. It’s weird, feeling the stress of the last few days, of probably the whole pregnancy, melt away with just one hug, but too soon he’s stepping away from me, and I claw at his shoulders like a drowning kitten pawing at its rescuer for dear life.

  
“Stay with me!” I beg almost hysterically.  
“Always,” he kneels before me, wiping away the tears falling down my face, then he adds with some fear and hesitation, “if you allow it,”

  
“I’ll allow it!” I nod frantically, trying to convince him.

  
“You have to promise me, you’ll let me stay and help. I don’t think my heart could stand not being around Willow, now that I know she exists.”

  
I lean backwards, staring straight into his eyes, all shadow of doubt gone from my voice, “I’ll never keep her from you. Even if you and I don’t work out ever again, I’ll never keep her from her daddy. I won’t do that to my daughter.”

  
“Good,” he says and smiles at me sweetly. All anger stored away for now, probably even for good. “Now, tell me all about… well, everything.”

  
I smile to myself, looking past him and at the bundle under the blue lights.

  
“Her feeding is in ten minutes. We can keep her out for 30 minutes. You can feed her a bottle of breastmilk I expressed before you arrived, then you can feel how the fussy hair of her head feels like velvet under your fingers. She’s so soft, and beautiful, you’ll lover her! ” I tell him proudly, almost giddy with the excitement of him holding his baby girl for the first time ever.

  
“I’m already a goner,” he responds equally excited. “Now, about that feeding… I’ve fed my nephews, but I’ve never changed a diaper. How do I go about that? I wanna do everything!”  
I chuckled at his enthusiasm.

  
Phototherapy has proven to fix more than bilirubin levels today.


	18. Prompt #34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **thegirlfromoverthepond** said:  
>  Could you please write this one ? “You come to my room and wake me up at 4am, to cuddle?” Thank you so much !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the prompt, thegirlfromoverthepond@tumblr.com! Here it is, just for you!
> 
> #34. “You come to my room and wake me up at 4am, to cuddle?”
> 
> Unbetaed. Canon Compliant. Post MJ

I’m laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep because she’s not in my arms.

  
I’m the one who decided to sleep in separate rooms tonight, because sometimes her stubbornness is too much to handle, and before I get really angry at her, risking her harm, I rather step away.

  
For the twentieth time, I think of yet another argument to my list reasons why she should agree with me, but then I hear it. The faint creak of the door opening and closing. Then I strain to hear her ghost like steps in vain, and when my bedroom knob twists open, I still myself rigidly under the covers.

  
“Peeta, would you scoot over?” She whispers when she’s standing next to the bed.

  
Is no use pretending I’m asleep. Since our first Games, neither of us can sleep much without the other, so screw a scowl on and open one eye to stare at her.

  
”What?” I ask trying to keep my voice neutral.

  
She makes a noise, like a grunt, “Come on Peeta. I’m tired. All I want is go to bed so we can get some sleep.” She must be very tired, because she’s whining, and Katniss Everdeen only whines when she’s sleepy.

  
I responde in my most aggravated tone. “You come to my room and wake me up at 4 in the morning, to cuddle?”

  
”You were not asleep!” She protests. “I can practically hear your brain wears clicking and turning from our bedroom!” Is her turn to sound aggravated. “You can’t possibly still be mad at me.” She whines again, and like that, she’s won the argument that was still raging in my head.

  
I grind my teeth, but relent. “Fine!” I throw off the blankets and make her room, “Get in.”

  
She doesn’t make a peep, she climbs into bed hurriedly, almost afraid that’ll change my mind, and snuggles herself up against me, laying half on top of me and half on the mattress. My arm goes around her back automatically, because for as much as I’m upset, once she’s in my arms I help but to hold her close.

  
We settle down finally, and I think that’ll be the end of it, so I sigh and close my eyes, ready for sleep to take me under, but she mumbles something into my chest.

  
”Chocolate.”

  
”What?” I ask confusedly.

  
”Chocolate,” she repeats, splaying a hand over my heart, and lifting her head to look into my eyes in the limited glow of our candle. “At the Capitol, they had a chocolate cake, I think you can recreate for the wedding.”

  
She lowers herself back into my chest, leaving me more confused than ever.

  
“Huh? Who’s wedding are we talking about?”

  
She huffs apparently I’m too slow for her tonight. But she props up on chest again and stares at me with those big gray eyes I love so much, and explains in her own Katniss way.

  
“Ours!” She says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and probably it is to her, her mind, I learned pretty quickly, doesn’t work like the rest of the people, she’s very practical and her train of thought is deceptively linear to those who don’t know how intricate her mind gets at times, that when she speaks just says the conclusion of whatever long process of thought she had internally, leaving everyone feeling as if they missed a step, which is pretty much the case with her.

  
”Ours,” I repeat both stunned and disbelieving.

  
”Well, yeah.” She takes a deep breath, her cheeks darkening with a blush I can see even with the low glow of the candle, yet her eyes don’t flit away from mine. “You were the one who said it was time to make it official. I don’t see the point, though, people already think we are married, and it’s not like they’re wrong anyway. We do act very married behind closed doors.”

  
It’s true, we’ve been intimate for the last year. Heck, just this morning she was gasping my name over and over before I left for my newly built bakery, yet, when I mention my desire to finally make things official I meant, I wanted to be at liberty to call her my girlfriend in public, but of course, she took it however she perceived it and blown it out of proportion… in this case, I’m completely okay with it.

  
”Chocolate it is, then,” I say quietly as she lowers her head back to rest, my hand comes up to tangle my fingers into her silky dark tresses. And finally let sleep take me.


	19. Prompt #12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **thelettersfromnoone** said: #12: “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself” :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the prompt thelettersfromnoone@tumblr.com Here’s the next one!
> 
> #12: “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself”
> 
> Unbetaed

”Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself.” Peeta says while hauling up a heavy looking bundle of firewood to the ever growing pile he’s been collecting all summer.

  
”I know you can.” I counter a little defensive, “it’s not about that. It’s about you having a temperature of 101 only two days ago, and then coming out here, exerting yourself for no good reason at all!” I practically yell at him.

  
”I’m fine, Katniss, and I need to do my chores,” he says picking up the ax to keep cutting the logs into smaller pieces.  
It would have been the end of the argument, if he hadn’t sneezed so violently, that his free hand shot up to rub the spot just about his nose, between his eyes.

  
”That does it!” I say stalking forward. When I reach him, I grab the ax and pull it away from his slackened grasp none too gently.

  
”Hey! I what gives? I’m working here, give me that back!”

  
”Peeta, we have enough wood to burn every day of the season for the next five winters, already! You need to go back to bed. Now!” I full on yell at him.

  
”I feel fine! I am fine! Stop treating me like I’m a helpless, needy, breakable thing and let me work!”

  
”I don’t care if you think I see you like a weakling. I don’t! in fact you’re the strongest man I’ve ever known, but I swear to you, if you don’t march into that house right now and let me nurse you completely back to health, I’m gonna run you trough with my arrows, because so help me, if anything happens to you because I failed to protect you…”

  
I trail off just in time for a horrible sob to escape me. I can barely hold up straight, before collapsing on the stump Peeta using to chop wood. In a moment, Peeta leaps to kneel in front of me.

  
”Oh, sweetie, no. Don’t cry! I’m sorry. Please don’t cry,” he pleads with me, but I’m too far gone.

  
”You jerk, Peeta Mellark! Let me take care of you.” I demand between tears, hiccups and a string of snot I can’t seem to clean properly. “I don’t want to know what I’ll do without you. I can’t lose you,” I say weakly, while Peeta picks me up in his strong arms that have grown even thicker since his return. “You’re the only thing I’ve left. I can’t lose you,” I cry softly into his neck.

  
”You won’t lose me, sweetie. Not to a high fever. We have top quality medicine now.” He soothes, heaving me up and starting walk back inside the house. “I’m sorry I’ve upset you. I wasn’t thinking. Let’s take you inside, and prepare you a plate of cheese buns, what do you say?”  
I say, ‘typical Peeta, taking my worry, shrinking it off while making it all about taking care of me Instead.

  
I Hug him while he walks into our home with me in his arms, because whatever this is, he needs to rest and let me take care of him, and I’ll only be able to do it, if we both go inside.

  
”This what we do, we protect each other” he whispers into my temple before dropping a small kiss on the same spot. “Real, or not real,”

 

”Real,” I confirm, “It’s our thing.”


	20. Prompt #1 (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the prompt @norbertsmom!!!
> 
> #1- “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

 

 

I stomp inside the apartment agitated, tearing my bangles from my wrists with more force than necessary. Peeta comes loudly after me and slams the door the so hard behind himself, I’m surprised it’s still upright on its hinges.

“Why are you so mad?” He demands angrily, as I toss my bracelets far away and start ripping my 5 inch heels off my feet.

I whirl around to face him, because it’s unbelievable he just asked me that question, “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it!” I scream at him, hot, angry, fat tears falling copiously, unchecked, from my eyes. “I’m the one in your bed, gasping your name every night!”

In a second, I’m enveloped in his warm arms, crushed to his solid, strong chest.

“I know… I know… I know… you’re more than a friend to me,” he whispers into my hair, voice raw and full of despair.

“Then why did you introduced me as a friend tonight?” I plead, hating the quiver in my voice.

“Because you’ve always remarked your disinterest on a relationship, or love or a family. I was just trying to respect your wishes, but to me, you’ll always be so much more than just a friend. You’re everything.”

“Then… don’t ever call me your friend again.” I say quietly into his shirt, feeling the rapping of his heart fast, in his chest.

“Tell me what you want me to do, I’ll do it. I swear!” He begs into my temple, his lips skimming over the skin of my forehead.

“Don’t listen to me when I’m being a coward. Don’t enable my fears. Call me your lover, your girl, your sweetheart, whatever you want, but never just your friend.”


	21. Tumbler Prompt #47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi Anon, thank you for the ask! 
> 
> #47 “You’re seriously like a man-child.”

Peeta glares at me from the other side of the kitchen. He looks adorable with a streak of flour on his cheek, and his soft orange apron dusted in the stuff as well.

“Say that again,” he challenges.

I can’t hold my snort, “I said, you’ll make a Who-husband very happy someday,”

“That means war, Everdeen!” He says marching towards me with a smirk on his lips and that sexy darkness on his pupils that makes my entire body shudder.

My eyes widen when I realize he’s holding the pipping bag he’s using to frost the Christmas cookies, and he intends to use it on me. I squeal and run from the kitchen to the dinning room, but not fast enough to get away from him.

He catches me with an arm around my waist, hoists me up and in seconds I’m on my back on the dining room floor, while he’s straddling my middle, pipping bag in hand.

“Take it back you Grinch! Or I’ll exact revenge by giving you whiskers. Not even Buttercup will be able to tell you apart from himself!”

I’m laughing hysterically, “Never!” I scream, and feel the first spritz of frosting on my upper lip. “PEETA!” I scream-gasp. But them he’s licking the frosting off my lips, nose and cheek.

He pulls away laughing, while I paw disgustedly at my face, trying to wipe off the frosting he didn’t get himself.

It’s my turn to glare, “You’re seriously like a man-child.” I grouse.

“But you love me that way! That’s why you agreed to be my Who-wife, even though, you’re still a Grinch.”

He kisses the tip of my nose, picks me up with one arm as if I weighted less that his sacks of flour, and disappears into the kitchen.

I can’t hold my scowl very long, not when I’m watching him go and I can’t keep my traitor eyes off his delicious rear.

If I have my way, he’ll be making a Who-fiancée very happy tonight.


	22. New Year’s Drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey @7ahsmiles-blog… seems like I’m cutting it to the wire, I started writing and it got extremely long and wordy and out of control, so I’m gonna publish that later as a one shot, and give you this small Drabble for now… Happy New Year, Love
> 
>  **Prompt:** “Do you want a kiss as bad as I do right now?” NYE eve but they came with different people.

* * *

They were a little tipsy. The champagne Madge’s father served acting as liquid courage pushed them closer until their noses touched.

“I’m sorry Cashmere bailed.” She said not feeling one smidge sorry at all, her hands sliding up and down his warm chest, concealed under the crisp tuxedo shirt.

The blonde bombshell had been hand picked by Peeta’s mother some 6 months earlier, and he had been ready to pull his hair out since the first date, but he tried being a good son in the hopes to get his mother’s approval, but his patience with Cashmere grew thinner and thinner with every temper tantrum she threw.

The last straw came in an embarrassing fit she threw when she saw Madge Undersee was wearing the same Jimmy Choo’s as her, and demanded she changed them at once, but Madge refused on the grounds that she was the party host, and couldn’t very well up and disappear home for a change of shoes. Peeta’s mother saw it all happened and was mortified when Mayor Undersee asked her to lower her voice or be escorted out by security for harassing his daughter.

“Meh,” Peeta answered, flexing his fingers over the swell of her hips. “I’m just happy my mother gave me her word she won’t interfere in my love life again. Now I’m free to pursue who I really want.” He licked his lips staring at her mouth hungrily.

Suddenly, his eyes shifted up to her sparkling gray ones, feeling guilty, he sighed. “I’m sorry about Darius.” He grimaced.

She threw her head back and laughed heartily, making him stare at her in awe.

“Don’t be. I mean, he walked out of here with Johanna almost climbing him like a tree. I doubt he’s very heartbroken anyway.”

“Yeah, but… I kind of ruined his proposal.” He said sheepishly.

She shook her head. “No you didn’t. We were all wrong for each other. He knew it, I knew it, he just refuse to break it off because he’s not a quitter, and I didn’t have a strong enough incentive to leave him… until your mom left the party, that is.” She looked at him from under her eyelashes. “We are a fine pair, aren’t we.”

“A piece of work.” He agreed, squeezing her through the thin fabric of her dress. “Katniss?” He whispered.

“Mmm?”

“Do you want a kiss as bad as I do right now?“

“Hell yes!”

They crushed their lips together, just as the Grandfather clock on the hall rang the first bell of midnight, and somewhere, downstairs in the ballroom, the partygoers counted down the minutes.

The new year arrived, and Peeta and Katniss were locked around of each other, connected by their lips, arms entwined and hearts beating with the promise of a sweet year to come.


	23. Prompt #9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jroseley said:  
> Prompt List 9. Where do you think you're going? Please 
> 
> Hey! Thank you for the prompt! Sorry it’s taken this long to answer your ask, I hope you like this one!
> 
> Mild Adult situations ahead, and some mention of bodily fluids that may be a little on the TMI side. 
> 
>  
> 
> **9\. “Where do you think you’re going”**

I’m debating the best way to sneak out of here and into the bathroom undetected. Everything will be weird as crap once is day time, and I sure as hell don’t wanna be here when he wakes up to find out just how much damage we’ve caused with our actions tonight.

Is this damned hunger I feel deep in my core every time I’m around him. Today was just too much, too quick, too tempting.

I try to wiggle closer to the edge of the mattress, but he stirs behind me and tightens his hold on me.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He says quietly into my ear, his voice is scratchy with sleep.

“Bathroom. Full bladder.” I say right away. I’m not sure what’s the right protocol, when you sleep with your best friend’s step brother.

He grunts, pulls me impossibly closer to him where I can feel every delicious inch of his naked body against my own skin, and then he starts nuzzling his nose on the nape of my head, where he takes a deep, long breath. After he’s inhaled my scent, he releases a puff hot air at the base of my spine, causing me to feel all sort of delirious things.

“Don’t stay away too long, okay?” He whispers dropping an open mouth kiss on the spot where my neck meets my shoulder.

I have to bite down on my lip, hard, to keep from shivering, afraid of what may get unleash if I don’t keep myself in check.

After I nod to his request, he lifts the arm he’s got draped across my body, freeing me to go take care of my business.

I grab my clothes and shimmy back into it, sans my underwear, because I have no idea where they fell to, and head to the bathroom in the hall. I turn on the light and squint at the glare, but even like this, I can tell which side of the sink is his, and which side belongs to his roommate.

Peeta is so neat and organized, I don’t understand how has he put up with his slob of a roomie the last two years. It’s not as if he has to rent an apartment with the guy, he does voluntarily.

The thought hits me. It’s because he’s nice, genuinely, honest to God, nice. The realization scares me a little. Nice people tend to root in my heart and never leave, but there’s a niggling sensation that tells me it’s too little too late to run from this.

My ruminations gets cut short when I lower my jeans down to my knees and sit on the toilet. My nose gets assaulted with the scent of what Peeta and I did earlier tonight, and I’m surprised to find there’s so much icky residue between my legs, even after so long.

There’s a faint string of blood mixed with the fluids, no real surprise there, since it was my first time, but since he wore a condom I’m just weirded out at just what my body produced on its own. I vaguely wonder if he would find it weird as well, which leads me to debate whether I should go back to bed with him or go back to my own dorm. It’s not like I made an actual promise to go to bed, I agreed to ‘not stay away long’ which is vague enough to mean anything.

I finish quickly and wash my hands after wiping off real well. My pants are a mess though, so pull them on gingerly and wonder if I should just ask him to borrow something of his to go back home. Maybe that’ll be my excuse out of here!

  
I’m suddenly very thirsty, so I ventured to the kitchen after my trip to the bathroom.

I’m sipping my second cup of water when Peeta staggers in, only wearing a pair of sweat pants that hang low around his hips. I down the rest of my water in one pull, since the view of his well defined upper body has dried up my throat again.

I feel my cheeks and the tops of my eras warm up, while I feel a faint pulse low in my belly. I can’t possibly feel the hunger again, can I?

  
Something akin to relief crosses his handsome features as soon as his deep blue eyes land on me. He smiles and that, added to his state of semi undress makes my heart give an excited little jump.

“Hey,” He greets, again that sleep heavy voice makes my stomach swoop. “I was wondering where you’d go, and when were you coming back to bed with me,” He crosses over to lean on the counter, bringing his large, warm hands to rest on my hips, he pulls me to him, and I fall into his embrace easily.

Shit! What’s happening? Are we together now?

  
He kisses my temple and I put my hand on his very tempting chest, to push away from him, because I have to get away before something dangerous happens, and I do something stupid, like truly fall in love with him.

“I think I should go. I mean, I need clean clothes and I’m not sure where my underwear are—“

  
He groans rolling his eyes into his skull, his grip on my hip tightens, and when he looks back at me, his eyes are dark with lust. He kisses me hard, mumbling into my lips, “Fuck! You’re going comando under those jeans? That’s the hottest thing ever!” He pushes off the counter, and starts to walk me backwards towards his room.

“I’m gonna have to peel this pants off of you again, and see exactly how hot you look right now.” He tells me between nips and kisses to my lips, down my neck, and my earlobes. “I can’t wait to eat you out again.” He growls into my ear.

He has me completely wet and panting. I definitely need to burrow a pair of shorts from him now! but before I completely lose it again, like I didn’t earlier, and give into the hunger, I place my hands on his chest again and force us to separate a few inches.

“Wait,” I gasp.

He stops dead immediately. One of his hands left my hip to cup my cheek at some point, so he drops it from my face, and stares at me, worry replacing lust in a snap.

“I’m sorry if that was too aggressive!” He lets out searching my eyes with some apprehension.

I shake my head, about to tell him that that wasn’t it, but he interrupts me.

“It was the dirty talk then!” He says frantically, “I can dial it down if it makes you uncomfortable. Hell, I don’t even have to speak… ever!”

“No…” I force out, “the talk was fine, it’s just I’m not sure—“

“I didn’t mean to pressure or scare you. Fuck, I’m sorry, Katniss. I’m sorry if I offended you.” He lets go of me completely and steps back, running both his hands through his already messy curls. He looks stricken and defeated.

“No… it’s not- is not anything like that!” I try to reassure him, wrapping my fingers around his wrist, but he won’t look at me. I sigh, “I just… I just need some—“

“Space? Time?” He asks quickly, staring back at me pleadingly. “You take all the time you need. And if later, you decide you wanna give me a chance, I’ll like to take you out on a date. I’ll take you to a movie a dinner… I’ll get you flowers, and we can go as slow as you want, Katniss, I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want this to be our only time—“

“Peeta, stop! I don’t need time, or flowers or whatever. I just need to talk to Madge and make sure she won’t hate me for stepping the line. I don’t want to lose my best friend, because I have a crush on her step brother and I decided to lose my virginity to him on a random night when he was supposed to just be tutoring me in math.”

  
I shake my head, and chance a glance at him. He’s looking a bit better, hopeful, still pleading. I smile at him ruefully.

“I can do dinner and movie though.”

“You would?” He asks giddily. “Then I’ll personally call Madge first thing tomorrow morning.” He grins widely.

I nod, “And… I’ll even let you do the whole… thing… you know, from your dirty talk?” My cheeks are burning with embarrassment, my eyes find the floor.

It’s stupid, he’s the first and only guy that’s seen me completely naked, and he spent an obscene amount of time with his head buried between my legs, which probably accounts for the mess currently in my pants.

I see the moment his pupils blow out into lust mode, and he’s stalking to his room, “I’m calling Madge right now!” He says.

“Are you crazy? Peeta is 3 a.m. you can’t call her right now! You’re gonna wake half her dorm, everyone will hate her after…”

But he just turns around and traps my face in his hands and kisses me again.

“You’re staying here for the rest of the night. I’ll drive you back to your building after breakfast, and then I’m calling Madge, because dinner and a movie, is later today.”


	24. Prompt #18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Are you still taking prompts? I'd love to read everlark 18."If you insist." If rated M all the better ;)
> 
> Hey there Anon, I’ll try my best with this one, because it seems I’m incapable of keeping an M rated story short, lol.  
> ****NSFW****  
> #18_ “If you insist”

Her chest is heaving up and down with each heavy breath she takes. Her gray eyes smoldering, inviting. Sexy.

I don’t think she’s even trying to look so appealing, but that’s what makes her so damn tempting.

“Take me to bed, Peeta.” She whispers raggedly.

  
I scan her face for a moment. She’s my best friend in the whole world, she’s also stubborn and tends to flight when things like relationships scare her. If I do take her to bed, I might lose her forever. Am I willing to ruin the best thing in my life for a moment of sexual bliss?

I’ve wanted her like that forever, but she’s too important for me to let go. And she’ll try to run if things get too intense, I know she will try.

“Then don’t let me,” She says quietly, but commanding.

“What?” I ask confusedly.

“You said you’ve wanted me, but you know I’ll run if things get intense… don’t let me run, Peeta. I’m here, I’m ready, I want this— I want to be yours.” Her eyes are sincere, pleading pools of silver, looking at me as if she can see me now, completely and whole.

“I didn’t know I said that out loud,” I mumble. But some bravery comes from the secret pockets of my soul, and I hold her gaze captive when I speak next. “But I need to be sure, 100% without a shadow of a doubt, that you truly want this, because I cannot lose your friendship. You’re the only one I can be myself with, and while I know I’d survive not having you as a lover, I don’t think I could ever be happy again if I lose you entirely. Not really. So, tell me what you truly want, and we’ll go from there.”

She steps closer to me, so close our chests almost bump against each other. She reaches a slender hand to cup my cheek, “I don’t wanna run anymore, Peeta. I’m going to stay, right here, and wait for you to make love to me.”

She’s so sure and direct, I feel all of my fears dissolve, “If you insist.” I say before grappling my left hand around the nape of her neck, and pulling her lips to mine in a kiss that’s not shy, hesitant nor doubtful.

Her breath hitches, and my other hand fists on her thin sweater just above the curve of her ass. I’m not sure how we managed it, but I’ve walked her backwards to her bedroom, and when we reach her bed, I step away far enough to tear her top over her head and toss it behind me. My own sweater and undershirt follow, while she makes quick work of her boots as starts on her jeans.

“Let me,” I half growl half pant, and she drops her hands right away to let me work on her zipper.

  
I hook my fingers on the waist of her pants and pulled them down, bringing her panties with them unintentionally. I fall to my knees, in awe, watching her most private parts, neatly trimmed and on display to my hungry stare while my thumbs rub soft circles on the soft skin of her hips.

“You see something you like?” She purs.

My eyes fly up to hers. To the untrained ear, she sounds playful, seductive. But I’ve made an in-depth study of all things Katniss Everdeen, I can sense the edge of insecurity in her question.

  
Bracing my weight on her hips, I pull myself up and kiss her once in the mouth. “You know I do. But just so there’s no doubt, I think you’re the most beautiful creature in the world. Everything about you is gorgeous, in fact, I take it back… you’re not just beautiful, you’re as radiant as the sun! Now, I’m gonna eat you out, so be a good girl, and lay on your back for me,”

She gives a shaky little laugh, but sits on the bed, scoots to the center of the mattress and sits back, supporting herself on her elbows, her eyes follow me, a mixture of desire, excitement and nerves.

  
“I’m gonna take care of you now.” I say lowering myself next to her, still on my pants and socks, while the only cloths she’s got on is her simple cotton bra, that still makes her breasts look amazing. My fingers skim over her tone, satiny calves, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “I’m gonna make love to you so thoroughly, you’ll never want anyone else for the rest of your life. You’ll never want to run away, and you’ll never doubt me after tonight, that, is a guarantee!”

She nods breathing fast, her knees knocking together, then falling apart in opposing directions, a clear, albeit unspoken invitation. Then she plunges her hand into my hair, pushing me lower downwards. “Put your mouth to work, lover boy. This would have happened anyway, because I need you. I do.”

And I gladly oblige, because she’s right, it would’ve have happened regardless of ourselves.


	25. #22- “Choose me”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 22“Choose me”, for @certaineverlarkluminary. 
> 
> Canon compliant, post MJ, pre epilogue.

“You look so pretty when you’re nursing me back to health,” Peeta drawls.

  
My eyes dart up at his face, the rest of my body freezes for a moment.

  
He’s smiling goofily at me, his eyes- still so sweet, no matter how hazy they already are under sleep syrup influence- rove all over my face with open adoration.

  
I’m not used to him being so direct. He’s usually very careful with his feelings about me, only hinting here or there when we talk, but since his return home, those hints have been seldom if not completely absent. I can’t blame him, in fact, I’ve been afraid I would never hear them again.

  
It’s bittersweet. I’m ridiculously happy to know he still cares- finds me ‘pretty’ even- but there’s a knot in the pit of my stomach, twisting and pulling in all directions.

  
I remember feeling horrible when he’d say romantic stuff during the Victory Tour… I didn’t realized how much I missed them until now, how starved of his affection I am.

  
I shake my head and look down at his injured hand in mine. Him and Buttercup became fast friends when we moved in together, but the little beast is a menace sometimes, walking between Peeta’s ankles everywhere he goes. Today, Peeta was baking at home, and as usual Buttercup kept sneaking around his legs, until he tripped, and rather than stepping on the stupid cat, Peeta threw his hands up to catch himself. His left hand grabbed the counter but the other one fell directly on the hot embers of the open oven, giving him second degree burns.

  
“Go to sleep,” I command quietly, pulling our sheets higher over his chest, “the salve I just dabbed on your hand will help some, but is not the same as that Capitol grade stuff we got in the games.” I bandage his hand with a clean cloth, so he doesn’t aggravate the burn or rub the medicine off on the sheets.

  
“You’re the prettiest healer ever.”

  
“I’m not a healer,” I whisper uncomfortable.

  
He keeps going, as if he didn’t hear me. “Your hair is so shiny, and your eyes are to die for…” he trails off.

  
“Peeta,” I whisper halfheartedly, trying to make him stop. Sleep syrup will make you say whatever is buried deep inside of you and otherwise unspoken.

  
Is too much, seeing this ghost, the way Peeta could’ve- should’ve- been, if it wasn’t for how messed up our circumstances have always been. I’m dreading losing him again, when the syrup that has loosened his old self clears his system, and I’m left with the reserved, scared version of him that the Capitol left.

  
“Choose me,” He whispers.

  
I raise my eyes to his again, and my heart squeezes in my chest. His face is pained, his smile is gone and in its place is only sadness and a plead.

  
“What?” Ask confusedly.

  
Buttercup choses this moment to climb on the bed to curl next to him, but I bat him away with my hand. The fur ball glares at me and sits innocently on Peeta’s side table, but I pay him no attention, because Peeta slurs “Choose me,” again.

  
“I have chosen you,” I say more harshly than I should. “I’ve always chose you, since the very beginning.” I say defensively, letting go of his hand.

  
It’s the first time I admit it aloud, but that doesn’t explain exactly why is this conversation making me so angry, all I know is it feels like my skin has been peeled off my body, and everything around me is raw flesh.

  
“No.” He frowns, probably fighting the syrup to stay awake. “You would die. And have me live. Without you.” He manages between yawns and many blinks of his heavy eyelids, he’s trying so hard to stay conscious.

  
“I could say the same for you,” I retort with less fire. “I don’t see how is that not choosing you.” I mutter under my breath just loud enough to make him screw up his face endearingly.

  
Is true, I chose him over Gale, maybe not consciously, but I did, during the train ride to the Quarter Quell. Then in both games I sacrificed to keep him alive, going as far as wanting to die for him. And then when his mind was tempered with, and I thought I’d lost him, I chose him, over my own safety. How can he ask me to chose him, if that’s all I’ve ever done?

  
“That’s not choosing me!” He says sounding so guileless, “That’s leaving me, behind. To lose the fight. Nightmares.” He shakes his head stubbornly. “It’s, leaving me… for the mutts, to eat. Not choosing me. If you’re dead, and I’m. Live.” His eyes close. “Chose me. Don’t… save me.”

  
My eyes are full of angry, scared tears.  
“You want me to live without you, then?” I growl.

  
He shakes his head, I can’t see the blue of his eyes anymore, I’m afraid he might’ve fallen asleep, leaving me awake to deal with my heartache.

  
But then he slurs heavily, almost unrecognizable, “Not, either. You get scared. Alone. We live… together. Real? Or not—?”

  
I caress his sweet face, noticing stubble on his chin. He’s never had stubble before. I like him with stubble, I like him with natural hair growing at will on his body. “Real, Peeta. Always real.”

  
He smiles, leaning his cheek into my hand like I did to his once.

  
“Good. I chose us. Always.”


End file.
